


Cretaeam belua ex Terra

by FictionalDragonMother



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Centaurians, Found Family, Good Peter, Hurt Peter Quill, Kid Peter Quill, Kragmomma, Mutiny, My cannon now, Parent Kraglin Obfonteri, Parent Yondu Udonta, Peter Quill Is Not Terran, Peter Quill Needs a Hug, Ravager Family, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Yondad, Yondu shuts that down real quick, Yondu's B+ parenting, and in this cannon we do not torment children by threatening to eat them, cannon what cannon, guardians will probs come in way later, the man is TRYING, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalDragonMother/pseuds/FictionalDragonMother
Summary: Peter Quill is taken from his home at the age of around 10. You might think you know how the rest of the story goes, Peter lives a fearful and rough life with the Ravagers, kinda bonds with Kraglin and kinda considers Yondu his dad, strikes out on his own and saves the galaxy by making friends through commiting crimes. Stuff happens, Peter meets his biological father, has a Bad Time, and everything ends in a bittersweet kinda way, right?Nah chief, we ain't doing that. Here's my story. Buckle the fuckle up and throw cannon to the wayward as we dive feels first into a different story, one that follows a much younger and not very Terran Peter Quill as he survives in space and goes from having no dad, no family and no friends, to two dads, a huge mismatched Ravager family, and some very good friends. Now, if only he could figure out what exactly he was, hopefully without running into a certain living planet.
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri & Peter Quill, Kraglin Obfonteri/Yondu Udonta, Peter Quill & Yondu Udonta
Comments: 40
Kudos: 207





	1. The End of one Story is the Beginning of another

Meredith coughed, shivering slightly. She glanced over at the makeshift nest beside her, gazing sadly at the tiny form laying within. Her only son, Peter, lay there, unmoving save for his shallow but steady breaths. She ran a thin hand over his small stomach, feeling the ribs that were becoming way too obvious. They stuck out like roots just lightly buried in dirt. She needed to feed him more, or feed him something better, but neither were an option right now. Her baby boy, her precious Star Lord, only 3 years old, would unfortunately probably not make it to his next birthday, unless she somehow managed to miraculously beat the horrid disease wracking her body. 

But she knew that wouldn’t happen. She could feel it. It crawled through her, destroying anything in its path. It was only a matter of time before her strength gave out, leaving her son alone, destined to a slow death. It made tears well up in her eyes just thinking about it. If only they’d been human, she could have found someone to care for Peter.

'If only they’d been human…’

Meredith pushed herself up, wandering slowly deeper into the cave they were living in. A pile of books sat near a small candle. Laying down, she coughed before reaching for a book near the bottom of the pile. She flipped through its worn pages, looking for a certain page. She paused upon finding, thinking about what she was doing. If she did this, she would be sapped of all her strength, and Peter would finally have to face the inevitable, that she would be gone, and he would be alone. But if she didn’t do this, Peter would be alone anyways with no chance of being cared for. At least this way, he would have a fighting chance at having a life.  
Summoning her remaining strength, Meredith hauled the heavy book up off the ground and walked over to Peter's bed. Gently, she shook him awake.

“Peter. Peter sweetie wake up.” She whispered, fighting back another rib cage rattling cough. 

Peter stirred slowly, his thin, bat-like wings stretching out as he roused from slumber. The small, white spots that Meredith always thought looked like stars were just barely visible in the dim light. His large blue eyes blinked owlishly at her. 

“Momma? Waah?” He groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes.

“Get up sweetheart, I need to tell you something. Something very important.”

Peter sat up at that, trying desperately to rub the sleep from his eyes. He crawled over and flopped into his mother’s lap. Meredith smiled and stroked his downy soft hair.

“Do you remember that talk we had? The one where I told you that I wouldn’t always be here to take care of you?”

Peter nodded slowly, his face beginning to show mild distress.

“Well… that time has come. But there’s something I need to do first, and I need you to promise me something.”

Her son’s eyes were leaking tears now. He let out a sob and buried his face into his mothers’ stomach, not nearly awake or emotionally stable to deal with the information he was being given. He didn’t know much, but he knew what his mother’s words meant. It meant she would be leaving him alone. Forever.  
His mother let him cry. After all, how do you tell a child who has just learned that he is going to lose the only loving figure he’s ever known to stop crying?

“Momma, please don’t go!” Peter sobbed, his voice shaking. Meredith pet her son’s hair, tears dripping down her face.

“Shhh. Hush my child. It’ll be okay. I’m going to make sure you aren’t left alone.” She whispered, before placing her palm flat on Peter’s head. His eyes flashed white for a moment, before he collapsed onto her. She could hear bones crack as the spell worked its way through her son’s body, changing his appearance. Meredith fell back onto the cave floor, her strength gone. Slowly, she reached over and grabbed her unconscious son’s hand, feeling, and smelling, slick blood. She squeezed it gently, before moving to the back of the cave and laying down, closing her eyes for the last time.

Yondu stepped of his M-Ship, breathing in the damp night air. It was chilly out, so his breath was visible as he strode through the grassy field. He had been given some coordinates as to the boy’s general location was, although they seemed rather odd. The coordinates led to a thick, dark forest, filled with tall evergreens. It was dark enough that Yondu had trouble seeing where he was going, cursing a few times along the way when he stubbed his toe or tripped. How did a Terran live in this mess? It was all brambles and branches.

Yondu paused as a familiar, iron tinged scent struck his nose. He flicked open the holster of his arrow just in case things got bad. He crept closer to the entrance of a cave, but paused when he saw what was in front of him. It was a small child, small enough that Yondu instinctively looked around for other Terrans. But he found none, only a thin, crumpled heap next to the boy’s unconscious form. Blood surrounded the child, seeping through his clothes and staining the ground. Yondu closed the distance and knelt down, searching for a pulse. He found one, strong and quick despite the child’s appearance. As gently as he could, Yondu picked the boy up, and let out a surprised curse when he felt how light the child was. Had his mother been starving the kid? Where was his mother? 

Looking beyond where the child had been laying, Yondu could see a still, crumpled form that reeked of blood and sickness. Not a single wisp of movement could be sensed from her form. Yondu didn’t bother going over to check her pulse. He slid a small satchel off of his shoulder and packed a few items into it. Some blankets, a book on Terran biology he found near the back of the cave, and finally, a small contraption that the child had on his person. A sort of headpiece attached to some kind if electronic.  
Readjusting the sleeping child in his arms as gently as he could, he began to walk back to his M-Ship. But before he could reach the tree line, a low growl sounded out. Tensing, he spun on one foot to look behind him. 3 pairs of glowing green eyes stared straight at Yondu from the shadows of the forest. No, not at him, but at the kid in his arms. More growls began to rumble out, and large, clawed paws began to appear from the shadows. Yondu narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, ready to whistle a tune that would send his Yaka arrow straight through these beasts’ hearts, when the growling stopped. The creatures backed away as their eyes widened. They disappeared from sight moments later. Yondu cocked his head slightly. It wasn’t unusual for animals to be afraid of his arrow, but he had never seen anyone who didn’t know him personally recognize what his whistle meant.

Shaking it off, Yondu made his way back through the forest and to his ship. The ship activated its tractor beam, and within seconds he was back on the main part of the ship, near the pilot’s chairs. Kraglin was sleeping soundly in the co-pilot chair. Yondu smacked the Xandarian on the back of the head as he passed. Kraglin snorted and blinked, glancing over at the Captain. He sucked in a breath when he saw the small thing clinging to Yondu's coat.

“Cap'n! Is that the cargo?!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. 

“Yeah. You got a problem wit that Kraglin?” Yondu asked, starting up the engines. 

“No, but Cap’n… he’s so little.” Kraglin said quietly.

“You going soft on me Krags?” The Captain growled.

Kraglin shook his head, but he kept sneaking glances at the sleeping boy the whole trip back to the Eclector. When they arrived, some of the crew had come to greet them.

Horuz cocked an eye at the sight of his captain holding a small bundle of clothing tucked up against his chest. It was only when the bundle move did he realise what Yondu was holding.

Now, being small and underfed was nothing new when it came to Ego's children, but Horuz could not remember the last time he had seen a child look so… skeletal. The child looked barely alive, breaths coming in slow and shallow, and exiting with a soft wheeze. He showed no signs of stirring as Yondu handed the child to his first mate, nor when Kraglin clumsily readjusted him in his arms. So, it came as a surprise when the child bolted awake when Yondu placed the translator onto his head. 

The Terran froze, seemingly paralyzed by fear. Wide, fearful eyes darted around at the strange new people. He was shaking now, completely overwhelmed by all the new sights and faces, not to mention the complete lack of familiar faces. Horuz felt sorry for the young boy, most children they had picked up had been at least 3 years older than… Peter, was it? He couldn’t quite remember exactly what the file had said, only that his mother had fallen ill, and that the child’s name was Peter.

Skyyar, a particularly nasty V'tyana, sniffed at the child. Peter, deciding that Kraglin was a far more comforting presence than Skyyar, whimpered and hid his face in the Ravager's jacket, curling up into an even smaller ball.

“Hrmmm. Thisss one sssmellsss of weaknessesss. Perhapssss we should jussst eat him inssstead.” The green, snake-like creature hissed, sticking out his forked tongue. Yondu growled.

“You say that EVERY DAMN TIME SKYYAR! For the last time, we DON’T eat cargo!” The captain snapped. The reptilian humanoid bowed his head, but flicked his gaze back towards Peter, discreetly wetting the scales around his mouth.

Yondu turned his attention to the boy curled into his first mate's chest, placing a hand on the quaking child’s back. Peter flinched and his gaze snapped to Yondu, his pupils like pinpricks as he stared at the Captain. The child had begun to silently sob, fear gripping his heart in it’s crushing grip.

“Easy there Petey. Skyyar's jus' bee'n a as-er, jerk. Ain’t nobody gonna eat ch'a.” He soothed. Yondu was tempted to threaten to eat the boy himself, but he had a feeling, with how young and truly afraid Peter was, that doing so could only end very, very badly. He glared at the rest of the present crew. “And can I trust that my crew can make that a well-known fact?” He asked, already knowing the answer, but looking for confirmation anyways.

Horuz and the other crewmates nodded immediately, while Skyyar hesitated, only briefly, before nodding as well. Kraglin narrowed his eyes at the V’tyana but said nothing. Instead, he jerked his head towards the ceiling. Yondu nodded and handed him the satchel. Kraglin slid it onto his shoulder and headed further into the Elector, missing the hungry eyes that followed the child in his arms.


	2. Your New Room

Kraglin nudged open a door with his foot, revealing a small room decorated in various items. A bed was tucked into the corner of the room, and upon it sat various plush animals. Kraglin recognised a few of them, but most remained a mystery. One of the plushies made him shiver, however. It had belonged to a Terran girl, much older than Peter, but it had been the last reminder of her mother. It was distinctly feline, orange in colour and sporting worn whiskers and ragged pointed ears. The girl, Shelby, had called it a “cat”, for reasons unfathomable to Kraglin. The plush was obviously a stuffed version of a Flerken, a horrifying beast that would frighten even Yondu.

The room itself was different than most of the rooms on the Eclector. A particularly artistic child, or rather, a teenager, had painted the room to resemble a night sky from a planetside point of view. The bottoms of the walls had been painted to resemble a cyan grassland. He really missed Kirron. The child had so much potential to be a truly great artist.

A few toys littered the floor as well. Wooden blocks and plush balls that bounced made up the majority. A few action figures were also present, most being of some kind of animal and usually hand made. A small wooden instrument was also present in the room, it’s painted on colours slightly chipped from use, revealing the silver wood underneath.

Kraglin laid Peter down on the bed, couching beside him. The child looked around the room, before settling his gaze on the stuffed “cat”. 

“Kitty.” He murmured, hugging the soft toy. Kraglin was astonished. Did Terran's truly not fear Flerkens to the point where a young child would take comfort in seeing a toy one? 

As Peter pet the toy, his eyes went wide with sudden realisation. He bolted upright, looking desperately at Kraglin. 

“Walkman?!” He asked frantically, fresh tears springing into his eyes. 

Kraglin cursed internally and opened the satchel, showing it to Peter in hope that whatever a “walkman” was, it was something Yondu had grabbed.   
Peter instantly grabbed a headset of sorts and a thin-ish rectangle. He visibly relaxed and hugged the items to his chest. He gave Kraglin a watery smile.

“Th-thank you.” He said quietly, speaking for the first time to anyone on the ship. Kraglin blinked, slightly surprised at hearing Peter speak. He had expected that the frightened child would not want to speak for at least a few days.

“Uh, yer welcome? Best to thank the Capt’n, he’s the one who grabbed it for ye.” He paused, thinking. “What is that thing anyways?” 

“A Walkman. It plays music. My Momma gave it to me.” 

Peter trailed off quietly, fresh tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he became distraught again.  
“She, *sniff* she’s not here anymore. She’s gone. Momma said that she would leave someday, but I hoped, *sob* I hoped she was ly-lying!” Peter cried, the tears now falling freely as he hugged the Walkman closer to his chest. 

Kraglin bared his teeth in shock and great sympathy. Peter was young, very young, and should not have to understand death yet, especially if his understanding came from the untimely passing of is mother. Most of the children they had picked up had come from rough situations, but almost none had a loving family, or at least a loving parent. But it seemed like Peter’s mother had really loved him, and him her, given how hard he was taking her death. 

Kraglin’s hands hovered for a moment, before he made his decision. He pulled Peter into a hug, letting the toddler cry into his chest. God, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? Little more than a baby and already thrust into the cruel world. Kraglin hugged the boy tighter, only to pull back slightly upon realising he could feel almost all of Peter’s ribs.

“Kid, when was the last time ye ate?” He asked, now beginning to realize how terrible Peter looked. The darkness of space and baggy clothes had masked the signs of starvation and exhaustion, but now that they were in a well-lit room, Kraglin could see that the kid looked more dead than alive. His shirt had tears in it, and his arms were littered in scratches, some of which looked as though they might be getting infected. His mother truly must have been really sick not to notice the state of her child. Or, if she had noticed, she hadn’t been able to do anything. He needed to get this kid some help. 

Peter wiped at his eyes, his face scrunching up in thought, before he shrugged weakly. Kraglin whispered a curse before raising his hand to the earpiece that rested on the side of his head. 

“Capt’n, the kid is hurt and looks half dead n’ starving. What’dya want me to do?” He asked, looking for anymore obvious injuries. 

“Shit, really? I knew the kid looked too skinny. Get’em down to the Doc, I’ll get Cook to make the boy some grub and meet yah there.” Yondu responded.

Kraglin was pleasantly surprised to find that Yondu was volunteering to get the food himself instead of making Kraglin do it. The first mate scooped Peter up into his arms, making sure the child had a good hold on both him and his Walkman before walking towards the door. 

“Alrighty Petey, we’re gonna head down to see the Doc and get those scratches looked at, then the Capt'n is gonna bring you somth'n proper to eat.” Kraglin explained, making his way to the upper levels of the Eclector.

“Yu cn call me Strlrd” Peter mumbled into Kraglin's shoulder.

“What was that Petey?” He asked, turning his head slightly. 

The boy pulled his face away from Kraglin. “I- I said you can call me Star-Lord. It’s… it’s what my Momma called me. The Cap-tain can call me it too, since he grabbed my Walkman.” He said softly. Kraglin smiled. 

“Okay then, Star-Lord, lets go get those scratches cleaned.”


	3. A trip to the Doctor's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin takes Peter to the Med-bay. Things don't look to good.

Peter was surprisingly calm while he was visiting the Med-bay, content to talk to Kraglin about anything the Ravager could think of that was kid-friendly. The doctor, who Peter had dubbed “Docca Horse” had cleaned out Peter’s scratches fairly quickly, but had discovered that a cut on the back of Peter’s left leg had indeed gotten infected, and thus the boy would need to be on antibiotics for at least a week.

Peter wiggled his leg experimentally as Doc ran other tests. Kraglin’s brow furrowed as Doc’s eyes slowly widened. He quickly rushed into a different room, returning moments later with a small cup. The cup had a rubber lid and a small straw sticking out so that fluids could be sucked out in small amounts. He handed it to Peter, who eagerly took the cup, thanking the doctor.

“Slowly now, whelp. Don’t want to upset your tummy.” Doc cautioned.

“What’s that ye’v given ‘im?” Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow. Doc glanced at Peter, who was now sucking down what liquid he could, before lowering his voice and leaning closer to Kraglin.

“Water and glucose. The whelp is starving. I don’t know how he looks as well as he does, considering the fact that his body would be beginning to cannibalize itself if we hadn’t caught this now.” He explained. His ears perked towards the door, twitching slightly. “Ah, it seems the Captain is approaching. It would be best to explain everything to both of you at once instead of separately .”

Kraglin nodded once, a sudden chill creeping across the inside of his chest. The word “cannibalize” brought up horrible memories, ones he’d much rather repress. Poor Peter, from loosing his mother, to being taken away from his home, and to top it all off, being close to having your body start eating itself. He was so wrapped up in feeling sorry for the kid that he almost didn’t hear Yondu walk into the room. 

He turned his attention to the Centaurian, taking notice of what he was holding. It was a bowl of Sarvarian Salkmonce eggs, an easy to digest meal. Yet Kraglin couldn’t help but remember how Shelby had reacted to the dish. The girl had been green in the face for hours after breakfast. He certainly didn’t want Peter to get sick-

“Well, glad te see yeh at least ain’t a picky eater!” Yondu laughed. Kraglin’s gazed snapped to Peter, who was now happily eating small bites of egg.

“Thank you Sir!” Peter chirped, before taking another bite.

“Good to see yeh remember yer manners, but you’ll address me as Captain, alright boy?” Yondu said, pleased to see that Peter wasn’t bothered by the food and that he wasn't panicking anymore.

“Yes Cap-tain. Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you for grabbing my Walkman!” Peter said, his large eyes practically sparkling with gratitude. Yondu shot a confused look at Kraglin. 

“The little box with the headset. Said it was, uh, real important to him.” Kraglin explained.

“Oh, that little thing. Yer welcome boy.” Yondu said, sitting down in one of the spare chairs as Peter returned to his eggs.

“So Doc, hows the kid?” He said, voice much quieter now. 

“Not good Captain. His body was on the brink of self cannibalizing. He’ll recover, hell, he’s doing much better than I had hoped for considering how bad things are, but he needs to stay warm and rest until his body has healed. Judging by how well he’s doing, it shouldn’t take longer than a week and a half. By then his infection will also have healed”

“A week and a half? That’s all? Well, that should be doable.” Kraglin murmured, shocked at the short recovery period but relieved that the kid wouldn’t be bed bound for too long.

He began to regret speaking his thoughts when Yondu got a mischievous look on his face.

"Glad teh hear ye think that Krags, because you're gonna be the one watching the boy till he gets better." Yondu smirked. 

...Yeah, he definitely was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth.


	4. Bored, Bored, Bored!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is confined to his room, and he's not to happy about it. Lucky for him, he's about to get some good news.

Peter was, for lack of better words, the most bored he had ever been in his life. The toys in the room had become uninteresting within the first three days of his confinement. "Ordered bed rest" was what Kraglin had called it, but it felt more like being imprisoned.  
The first day he had spent mourning his mother, crying out all the tears he had for her. The second day he was still mourning, but something within him started to urge him to begin to move on. He couldn't identify exactly what it was, but by midday he was exploring his new room and playing with the toys. He couldn't move around too much, but it had still been a fun distraction before Kraglin came in to give him lunch and tell him to take a nap. On the third day, Peter unearthed some books from underneath a pile of blankets. He couldn't read any of the words, but some of the books had pictures he could look at. He had spent that day looking at all the books he could find.

But now, he had nothing to do but look at the same pictures over and over again or push around the same wooden figurines. Perhaps playing would have been more exciting if he could move faster than a snails pace and stay awake for more than three hours at a time. As it was, however, he could do neither of those things, so he went back to looking at the book in front of him. 

Peter thought that it might be about animals on a different planet, as he couldn't recognize any of them. Then again, he didn't know many animals. He had only seen forest animals and the occasional "pet", as his mother had called them. He studied the animal printed onto the page, looking for any new details he might have missed, silently pleading to find something interesting. When he found nothing, he let out a frustrated growl and tossed the book away, wincing at the feeling of his sore muscles stretching. 

Peter rolled onto his stomach, staring longingly at the door that led out of his room. He desperately wanted to be able to leave the room, but he was too frightened of what might lay beyond that door. The memory of that snake man was enough to make any thought of possibly sneaking out dissipate. He was bored, but not so bored as to risk his life by leaving the safety of his room.

He perked up upon hearing footsteps approaching, propping himself up with a pillow as he waited to see who his visitor would be. He suspected that it would be Kraglin, as that's who it always was, but it was not lunch time yet, so there was a chance of it being someone else.

The door opened, revealing not Kraglin, but the tall form of Doc , or Doctor Horse, as he had dubbed him, as the furry alien looked quite similar to a horse. Sharp teeth and stubby claws stopped him from thinking it was just a horse on two legs, however.

"Good morning Peter. I'm here to check up on your progress." Doc explained, closing the door behind him.

Peter nodded, excited to have a new visitor. For the next 20 minutes he was subjected to a number of tests, from an eye exam, to changing his bandages, to a reflex check. After Doc finished shining a light into his eyes, he seemed satisfied.

"Well done whelp. You are making a swift recovery, as i had suspected you would. I'll let the Captain and Kraglin know that you should be okay to go for short walks to start building up some of your lost muscle strength." He said, packing up his things into a large black bag.

"You mean I'll finally get to look around?!" Peter exclaimed, a large grin splitting across his face as the doctor nodded.

"Small walks, but yes."

Peter let out a happy cheer, throwing his hands up before flopping back onto his bed, his smile never leaving his face.

The next time the door opened, it was lunch time. Kraglin entered the room, but without a tray. When Peter gave him a confused look, he nudged the door open a bit wider. 

"Doc says that ye can walk now, so I figure ye can make it down to the mess hall to get yer own grub." He explained.

Peter eagerly leapt off the bed, not even wincing at the pain that flared in his left leg. He was at Kraglin's side in less than 2 seconds, waiting for the man to lead him to their destination. Kraglin rolled his eyes at the child's eagerness, but smiled as he walked out the door, making sure that Peter was right behind him. The Eclector was a big ship, and a little boy could very easily get lost.

'Or,' Kraglin thought privately as they passed Skyyar in the corridor, 'end up as someone's snack.'


	5. A Grub for Grub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin takes Peter down to the mess hall, where he meets Cook.

Peter stared in awe at the mess hall, unused to being around more than one person at a time. As he looked around, he noticed how scary and aggressive almost everyone in the room looked, and wisely made the decision to stick close to Kraglin. The two made their way to the back of the mess hall quickly, Peter trying his best to ignore the stares that he was receiving. 

At the back of the room was a large window that led into a room filled with noise and the occasional flash of light. Peter stood on the tips of his toes, trying to see into the window, but found that, sadly, he was not big enough. He dropped back onto the flats of his feet with a pout. 

Kraglin rapped his knuckles against the stainless steel frame of the window, leaning against the wall as he waited. After a moment, a burly figure leaned out of the window, a grumpy expression on their face.

“Yer later than usual Kraglin. Usually, yer one av the ferst bastards down here. What’s changed?” A grumbling, somewhat feminine voice asked.

Kraglin gestured downwards to where Peter was standing. “Doc said the kid was well enough to walk, so I thought ‘e might as well come grab his own food. Peter, this here is Key, but we call ‘er Cook. Key, this is Peter.”

The figure leaned over farther, gripping the stainless steel with her huge, scaly talons and thick dark claws. A short, thick, beige snout peered down at Peter. He was startled by a colorful frill that flared out seemingly in surprise.

“By the stars! Kraglin, why didn’t yeh tell me he was so small? C’mere pup.” The large reptilian chef picked Peter up by the back of his shirt, setting him on a metal ledge that Peter had not been able to see. 

From here, Peter could see that the room contained many steel surfaces and tall shelves. Food of all different kinds could be seen around the room as well. A few humanoid beings were fixing meals around the room, rushing about. Peter nearly fell off the ledge when a burst of flame shot up about a meter away from him. Luckily, Kraglin had been keeping an eye on him, and caught the boy when he startled backwards. Instead of placing him back down, Kraglin kept him in his arms, adjusting him so that Peter could sit comfortably against him. Peter didn’t mind. Kraglin was warm, and although he hadn’t noticed until now, Peter had been getting cold.

The reptile lady came back moments later, holding three trays of food, one in each hand and one clasped firmly between her jaws. She barked a muffled order at one of the other chefs before making her way into the main area of the mess hall. She swung her short tail to the right as best she could, pointing towards one of the more empty tables. Kraglin nodded and made his way over there, still holding onto Peter, not even noticing the stares he was getting. He thought he might have heard the word “soft” among the crowd of Ravagers, but opted to ignore it.

Cook placed the trays down at the end of the bench-like table, sliding into a seat. Kraglin sat down across from her, putting Peter down next to him. The top of the poor child’s head just barley peaked out over the top of the table, and Peter made this fact known.

“Krag-lin! I can’t see!” He whined, trying to pull himself up enough to be able to see the surface of the table.

“That’s because yer too damn short, boy.”

The trio turned their heads towards the new voice. Yondu was now standing a few feet behind Peter. The captain closed the distance in two strides, taking a seat next to Peter. He picked the boy up and set him on his knee so that the child was high enough to actually be able to reach his food.

“Thank you Cap-tain!” Peter chirped, smiling at the man.

“Yer welcome boy, but don’t get used to it. We need to get yeh a pillow or sumthin.” Yondu said, thinking about where a suitable pillow might be.

“Want me to fix ya something, Capt’n?” Cook asked, pushing a tray of food over to Peter. 

“Nah, I’m not too hungry.” Yondu replied.

Some kind of fat grub that had a green sauce squirmed slowly on a metal plate in front of Peter as the adults talked. He cocked his head. What was this thing, and how was he supposed to eat it? Looking to Kraglin for advice, he saw that the man had a similar creature grasped in his hand that he had just bitten a chunk out of.

‘Hands it is then.’ Peter thought, grabbing the fat insect with both hands. He decided to not prolong the creature’s suffering and bit down just behind where the creature’s head ended and it’s neck began. 

CRUNCH!

The grub’s flesh yielded easily beneath Peter’s teeth, the thinly armoured outer skin making a satisfying crunching noise as he bit down. The head of the grub wasn’t exactly pleasant to taste, but the texture was fine so Peter didn’t spit it out. The meat of the insect proved to be far more enjoyable, sporting a taste similar to that of a nut he had once eaten. The sauce was reminiscent of a sour green apple, and Peter scrunched his face up at the taste. Someone at the table chortled softly, but Peter payed them no mind as he went back to his meal, trying his best to avoid the gooey sauce.


	6. Oh no, I've caught Parental Feelings!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin comes to the startling realization that spending quality time with someone causes you to bond with them.

Peter trotted next to Kraglin, trying to stay as close as possible to the man. It had been a week since he had visited the doctor, so Kraglin was taking him in for a quick check up. In his arms was the plush “cat” from his room. Kraglin had been unnerved by Peter’s insistence to bring the toy along, but it seemed to to a decent job of keeping the other crew members at a comfortable distance. It was just as well, seeing as how Peter only trusted four people on the ship, Kraglin, Yondu, Cook and Doc. Anyone else he was wary of at best. 

Skyyar absolutely terrified the little Terran. Yesterday, he had run into the slithering bastard on his morning walk with Kraglin as they headed down to breakfast. Peter had bolted behind Kraglin, hiding behind his legs. Skyyar had started to laugh, but the death glare he received from Kraglin had shut him up right fast. It had been early in the morning, and Kraglin would have gladly decked Skyyar if it meant that he wouldn’t have to deal with a sobbing Peter.

Speaking of Skyyar, Kraglin hadn’t seen him at all today. It wasn’t entirely unusual to not see a crew member some days, but Skyyar was a relatively new addition to the Eclector crew, and, given his behavior towards Peter, it made Kraglin feel slightly on edge. He couldn’t imagine Ego would be too happy if any of the Ravager’s harmed his son.

He faltered slightly at that thought. He had almost forgotten that Peter was cargo that they were delivering, and thus would not be on the ship much longer. To his surprise, he felt a stab of sadness. Where had that come from? It wasn’t like they hadn’t dropped of kids before, although he supposed most of them hadn’t wanted anything to do with any of the Ravagers, let alone want to spend all their time with Kraglin of all people like Peter did. It occurred to Kraglin that Peter might have been the first living, breathing creature to genuinely want to be around him for extended periods of time, with the exception of Yondu.

‘Oh. Oh no.’

Kraglin felt his stomach roll as he came to a horrible realization.

‘I’ve become attached to Peter, and in a few days, I’m never going to see him again.’

Kraglin was only half paying attention as Doc checked over Peter. He didn’t know how to deal with the emotions he was feeling. Damn his heart for softening to the child so easily and without him noticing. He shouldn’t have spent so much time with Peter. He should have just done the bare minimum amount of care and left it at that. But no, he had to start taking Peter for walks before each meal, and he had to start watching over the child as he explored and played. And of course he just HAD to be blissfully ignorant to the growing warm, fuzzy feeling of attachment in his chest as he watched Peter look at everything around him with childish wonder.

Letting him go was going to hurt so badly.

“Kraglin are you listening?”

Kraglin blinked, looking towards Doc. He gave a sheepish half smile, causing the doctor to let out a huff.

“I said that the whelp is fine. He doesn’t need to rest as much anymore, but he’ll still need to be closely monitored. I would suggest he be with someone most hours o’ the day, be it yerself or the Cap’tn.”

A light bulb went off above Kraglin’s head. If he could separate himself from Peter, the eventuality of him leaving would be softened. And although he didn’t know it, Doc had just provided him with the perfect opportunity to do just that.

“Explain to me exactly why I am doing your job?” Yondu grumbled, glancing down at the child who had been dumped on him. Peter was sitting on the floor next to him, looking at some children’s book and wearing his beloved headset.

Kraglin jacked a thumb to the man standing behind him.

“Like I said, Cap’tn, Horuz needed a good sharpshooter for this mission, and Huhtar isn’t available since he’s in quarantine after catching the Seyvon Flu. So, he asked me.” 

The statement was almost entirely true. Horuz did indeed need a sharpshooter, and Huhtar was indeed in quarantine, but Horuz hadn’t asked Kraglin to go with him. Kraglin had asked Horuz if he could join him on the mission, stating that he had “needed some time away from the brat”. He felt bad about calling Peter a brat, as the child had actually been behaving rather well, but he shook it off.

Yondu searched the two men for any sign of them lying, but was unable to find any. Reluctantly, he agreed. The mission would take two days to complete, and, if they succeeded, would net them a decent reward. Hopefully, the reward would be worth being put on babysitting duty for two days.

If the child was old enough to defend himself, Yondu might have pawned him off on somebody else, but seeing as how Peter didn’t even have the strength or size of a healthy three year old, being around the size of a 10 month old Centaurian pup, there was no way he would trust anyone other than himself or Kraglin to mind the boy. If Peter had at least been bigger, he might have asked Cook, but with how small he was, Yondu was worried that the large Dilofian might accidentally step on or hit he boy with her tail. So, that left only him to watch the child.

He looked down again at Peter, thinking for a moment. Even though Peter would be handed over to his father soon enough, (which reminded Yondu, he needed to call Ego and let him know that they had found his son,) there would be no harm in teaching the boy a few constellations as a way to pass the time.

He nudged Peter gently, prompting the child to remove his headset and look up at the captain.

“C’mere boy. I gots something to show ye.”


	7. Oh no, I've caught Parental Feelings! Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter spends quality time with Yondu, but soon has a scary encounter with the Snake Bastard himself

Peter stared up at the stars above him, his blue and gold eyes wide with wonder as they reflected the far away twinkling lights. He followed Yondu’s arrow as it connected the stars with a glowing red trail.

“That there is Coccinellidae, named after the Xandarian god of freedom. See those five stars there? That’s his spear.” Yondu said, pointing at a line of stars that extended from the middle part of the large constellation. 

He hadn’t expected to enjoy teaching Peter about the constellations so much. He had never really been able to teach someone about something that wasn’t fighting or thieving without receiving complete disinterest or a dumb stare. But Peter displayed neither of those things, instead choosing to listen intently to everything the Centaurian had to say, soaking up the knowledge eagerly.

Yondu caught a glimpse of the book Peter was holding, the text on the front reading ‘My First Animal Journal: Berhart Edition’. A colourful six legged creature was featured on the cover.

“You enjoying that, boy?” He asked, gesturing to the book.

Peter looked away from the sky and down at the book he was holding before shrugging. 

“I can’t read it, but the animals are cool!” Peter replied cheerily.

Yondu blinked. Of course, how could he have forgotten? The child was too young to be able to really read something in his native language, let alone an alien one. That would not do. He would have to start teaching him to read and write in at least Common.

Wait, why did he need to do that? The boy’s father could teach him all that once he delivered Peter to him… still, there would be nothing wrong with teaching the child a few words, like a basic greeting and how to ask for help. Getting a head start in his education could only help the boy, after all.

“Tell yah what, after lunch, I’ll teach you how to read some o’ that there book.” Yondu said, setting Peter down onto the floor, as the boy had been sitting in his lap while they were gazing at the stars.

“Really?!” Peter asked excitedly, looking at the captain with excitement in his big round orbs.

Yondu nodded and stood up, stretching until he heard a few satisfying pops.

“Sure boy. But first, let’s go eat somthn first. I think Cook is serving live Carrar Bird today.” He said, leading Peter down to the mess hall.

As they walked, Peter seemed to remember something. He tugged on Yondu’s coat gently, not wanting to accidentally damage the fabric, not understanding how tough the material actually was.

“Cap-tain? Could I go and put my stuff in my room? I don’t want to drop it or get it dirty.” Peter asked.

“You know the way there and back?” Yondu asked, wary of letting Peter wander off on his own. They were only about a minute or two away from Peter’s room, but he was still hesitant to let the child go.

Peter nodded enthusiastically, eager to show the captain that he could do the task by himself. Yondu hesitantly nodded.

“Fine, but don’t be wander’n off. Just dump yer stuff and git back here.”

Peter gave a singular nod before dashing off. Yondu leaned against a wall as he waited. He unlatched the quiver where he kept his arrow, just in case.

Peter did as Yondu had commanded, placing his things down before exiting the room. He hadn’t heard the sound of scales sliding over metal before stopping, so when he opened the door, it hit someone in the face.

“SSSSSKKKAAAH!” A voice hissed angrily, the figure recoiling in surprise and pain.

Peter’s hands flew to cover his mouth as he realized that he had harmed someone. He felt fear shoot through him like cold water when he saw who he hit, but guilt pushed the feeling down into the bottom of his gut.

“Skyyar! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Are you okay?!” He asked rapidly, stepping closer to the large snake-like humanoid.

A growl startled him, and he screamed as Skyyar shot forward, causing him to fall onto a coil of angry scales. The large reptilian Ravager towered above him, his hood flaring out and blazing with a deep, angry crimson as he hissed at Peter, exposing long, black fangs protruding from both his upper and lower jaws. A patch of scales on Skyyar’s face were beginning to turn an ugly purple colour as a bruise began to form. He looked as though he was about to bite Peter, before a sharp whistle made him freeze. 

A blazing red light enveloped Yondu’s arrow as it sliced across Skyyar’s snout. The snake made a noise like a wounded animal and slunk back, dropping Peter in the process. The terrified child scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over Yondu’s boot in his attempt to escape. The older man scooped up the shaking child, letting Peter bury his face into his shoulder as he sobbed. He had come running as soon as he had heard the boy scream. If Peter hadn’t been so innocent, he might have aimed for Skyyar’s throat.

“What the heLL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!” Yondu shouted, leaning forward so that he wasn’t screaming right into Peter’s ear.

Skyyar attempted to push himself up off the floor, but one whistle had the V'tyana flattening himself against the cold metal of the floor, ignoring the way the grate pressed painfully into his scales.

“I wasn’t going to h-hurt him I swear! I just wanted to scare the brAT!” His voice hitched at the end, his mild insult causing Yondu to press the arrow against his throat. The Centaurian stepped closer to Skyyar, placing a heavy boot on his chest, just below his ribcage, causing the younger Ravager to wheeze in pain. 

“Now, since there is a child present, I am gonna let you live. But make no mistake, you are not going to be let off easily. You are going to get yer ass down to the brig and you are going to stay there until we get to the next trader planet. Then, yer getting off my ship.” He growled lowly, pressing both his boot and the arrow further into Skyyar’s flesh. “Got that?”

Skyyar hissed out a weak “yes”, gasping for air as Yondu backed off, allowing him to quickly slither away towards the brig, not daring to look back at the captain. Yondu glared at Skyyar until he was out of his sight, before turning his attention to the child buried in his shoulder.

Peter hiccuped as he cried, his whole body wracked with sobs and gripped with fear. Yondu rubbed the boy’s back, making low shushing noises, something he had seen parents do for their upset children, and he could remember his parents doing something similar, but with more low whistling. He wasn’t very good at the whole comfort thing, since he wasn’t used to giving or receiving comfort, but it seemed to be working, if only a little bit.

“There there boy. Skyyar ain’t gonna be bothern ya no more.” He tried, still rubbing Peter’s back.

“I-I-I said I was sorry! I didn’t mean to-to-to hit him with the door! I prom-promise!” Peter choked out. 

“Shhhh, course’ you didn’t boy. I don’t know why that bastard was slither’n ‘round yer room anyways. He was supposed to be washing the M-Ships.” He growled, trying to not let all his anger slip out.

Peter sniffed, resting his head on the captain’s shoulder. He wiped at his eyes, drying them of tears. He turned his head slightly, looking at Yondu.

“Can- can we go eat now?” He asked.

Yondu let out a bark of laughter, holstering his arrow as he readjusted Peter in his arms. 

“ ‘Course we can! Put Skyyar outta yer mind and let's go eat some birds!” He said loudly, smiling a genuine smile as Peter giggled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled like that.

A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in his gut, and although he knew he should address it, the growl of his stomach seemed much more appealing and important to acknowledge.


	8. Winner Winner, Carrar Bird Dinner (except it's lunchtime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter graduates from insects to fresh meat. Yondu notices some differences between Peter and another Terran.

Peter wiggled on the cushion he was sitting on, his arms resting on the table as he got comfortable. He still wasn't too high up, but he was high enough that the top of the table just grazed the beginning of his pectorals. He watched as Cook gave Yondu two boxes with holes poked into them. The captain brought the boxes over to the table and set one down in front of Peter.

Yondu had long deduced that Peter was not like the Terran girl he had delivered, at least not when it came to eating. The girl had been appalled by the mere idea of eating a dead insect, let alone a living one. But Peter's only hesitation had stemmed from not knowing how to start eating any live insect he was given. So Yondu figured that he wouldn't have an issue eating a live creature.

Peter eyed the box curiously. He was slightly startled when the box squawked and moved jerkily. He turned to Yondu, who was staring intently at his box, narrowing his eyes before quickly flipping open the lid of the box and grabbing whatever was inside. He pinned it to the table, revealing the box's contents.

It was a plump, frightened bird. Bright coloured feathers were puffed out in fear as it squirmed, trying to escape the Centaurian’s grasp.

“This is a Carrar Bird, boy. They’re a pound of good meat, once you get past all the feathers. They got three hearts in ‘em, so just give ‘em a quick bite to the chest to stop th’ squirmn.’ Yondu explained, his ears perking forward unconsciously as he waited to see how well Peter could follow his instructions.

Peter nodded and turned all of his attention towards the box. His ears swiveled slightly as he tuned out all other noise. His eyes were locked onto where he knew the bird to be inside the small cardboard rectangle. He raised his dominant hand, his left, and with his right, he lifted the lid. 

Faster than he knew he could move, Peter swiped downward, his hand closing around a feathery appendage. The bird screeched as Peter gripped the wing tighter before quickly bringing it close enough to his mouth so that he could bite down. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the animal’s hearts was not entirely dissimilar to biting into the flesh of an insect, aside from the feeling of blood being pumped onto his teeth. What was entirely new was the taste. Peter’s eyes widened as the taste of a citrus-like fruit and strawberries flooded his mouth, almost releasing the now dead avian in surprise.

“It taste life fwuit!” Peter exclaimed around a mouthful of feathers and flesh. 

Yondu gave a short, soft chuckle. He had a similar reaction when he had been young and had first tried the sweet birds. Each one had a unique flavour, usually determined by the colour of their feathers. The creatures bred at such a rapid pace that most species who lived with the Carrar Birds considered them pests. Tasty pests, but pests nonetheless. So it was rather easy to acquire enough to feed an entire ship full of Ravagers plus one hungry child.

Peter eagerly bit down, his teeth easily tor through the soft flesh. He paused, before releasing the chunk of bird to spit out some colourful feathers, exposing a set of fangs that Yondu hadn’t previously noticed. Shelby, if Yondu’s memory served him correctly, had not sported such a sharp set of teeth. Two had been sharper than the rest, but they had been shorter than the top front teeth. Peter’s teeth were different, instead of the two front teeth being the biggest, a pair of fangs took that position, the four teeth between the fangs being smaller, but still sharp. His teeth became more dull as they moved farther back into his mouth, but never quite gained that flatness that one would usually see in omnivorous species.

Peter didn’t seem to notice Yondu’s inquisitive gaze as he returned to his lunch, ripping off more feathers as he clumsily plucked the bird. He tossed the chunk of meat he had already tor off into his mouth, chewing happily, oblivious to the gore staining his face.

Another Ravager, named Gerwark, a feathered biped who’s long, thin, silver back feathers could turn sharp at as a sword at a moments noticed, watched in confusion as the child next to him spat out more bloody feathers. He pulled the bottle of liquor away from his greyish-beige beak and glanced at the captain, his eyebrow’s raised in surprise.

“You sure Terrans eat like that?” He asked, his screechy voice low as to not alert the occupied child between them.

Yondu merely shrugged. He wasn’t sure, but he figured that male Terrans were simply just sharper than their female counterparts. The boy’s eating habits weren’t too dissimilar to his own, and he proved that as he turned to the bird he had trapped in his grasp. He raised the purple, green, and orange bird to his mouth and ended the terrified animal’s life with one quick bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll are enjoying this! Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Next chapter is gonna be exciting!


	9. A talk with Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu finally speaks to Douchebag Dad Supreme.

Peter attempted to parrot the words Yondu read to him, the translator allowing him to understand what Yondu was saying, even as the older man changed languages.

“The Ba-Barbo is a le-lear-large four legged an-i-mal.” Peter read, working his tongue to be able to pronounce the words in an unfamiliar language. It wasn’t easy, but he was enjoying every moment, loving that he was learning new things.

“Not too bad, boy. Yer a quick learner. Soon you’ll be a better reader than most fellers on this here ship.” Yondu praised, trying to hide just how proud he was. 

They had made it through half of the book, and Peter never stopped trying to pronounce words that he couldn’t say yet. He had this spark of determination in him that Yondu could see, and he knew that, with the right care and training, the boy would grow into someone great. It was a shame that he wouldn’t get to see who Peter grew up to be…

Perhaps he would visit him and the other children sometimes. Not too often, he wouldn’t want the crew to think he was going soft after all, but enough to satisfy his curiosity. A soft yawn drifted into his range of hearing. He looked at Peter, who was now rubbing his eyes. Yondu shut the book, nudging the tired child to his feet. Peter slowly got up, leaning against the captain’s leg. 

“Come on Petey, lets get ye to bed. You still need a nap so that ye can get better.” Yondu said, guiding the sleepy boy back to his room.

Peter didn’t argue, following close behind as Yondu exited the room. Once they reached the door, Peter murmured a tired farewell before carefully opening the door, going so far as to check behind it, even when he knew no one was there. The action made a fresh wave of anger roll through Yondu’s body, settling heavily in his gut. He would deal with Skyyar later, right now he had a call to make.

Something was off about this particular call with Ego. As he began talking with the man, he noticed something, or rather, the lack of something. Something that he should have definitely been able to hear. His ears twitched, trying to catch even the faintest sound of footsteps or childish laughter, things that should be heard in a happy home filled with children. Nothing, save for Ego’s voice.

“I expected to see you a few days ago, Udonta. What’s the delay?” Ego asked, seemingly oblivious to Yondu’s strain as he listened for the children he had already delivered.

“Ship got damaged on the way here, nasty scratch down the outside of our lower left engine. Kraglins’ out getting some supplies so we can fix it.” Yondu lied easily, a sense of unease beginning to stir in his chest, slowly tightening around his heart and lungs. Why couldn’t he hear anything? Why were there no signs of children living there? Why was there no real signs of life? 

“That’s a shame. I hope you can get here soon, as I am very anxious to meet Peter. Where is he anyways?” Ego asked dismissively, like he didn’t really care, but still had a smidgen of curiosity.

“Boy’s asleep.” Yondu replied, before glancing down at the book still left on the floor. “Not that it’s any of my business, but how are the kids?” He asked cautiously.

“Hmm? Oh yes! The children are… around here somewhere, probably off exploring together!” He said, a smile that Yondu could tell was fake plastered on his face. 

The unease turned to an icy fear as a horrible realization came to Yondu like a zap of electricity. The reason for the silence suddenly became clear. There wasn’t any noise…

Because there weren’t any children.

Yondu didn’t know what had happened to them, what their monster of a father had done, but he knew one thing for certain. Peter would not be delivered to Ego. No amount of units could sway Yondu into knowingly delivering a child to their death. He felt sick to his stomach as the knowledge of what he had unknowingly done hit him like a punch to the throat. He felt a shiver run through him as he fought the urge to regurgitate his lunch. 

He quickly wrapped up the conversation with Ego, making an excuse that he had to go oversee repairs, before ending the calls and sprinting to the nearest trashcan. He vomited the contents of his stomach, feeling the acidic fluids burn his throat. He needed a hot shower, maybe two, then he had to get Kraglin back on the ship as quickly as possible. They needed to hightail it out of this section of space. He would find a way to explain their change of course to the crew after they got to a safe distance.

He looked at the little figurines that adorned his dashboard, feeling a wave of extreme guilt and sadness wash over him. Some of the figurines had been given to him by the kids during their time on the Eclector. The kids he had sent to their deaths. He blinked and wiped at a tear that had begun to roll down his face. They deserved tears, but ones far better than his own. He wished that he could at least contact their families, to tell them what had happened, but the children hadn’t had any families that he could find. The best he could do would be to mourn them with Kraglin, and do his best to make sure that Peter never met the same fate.

Kraglin limped onto the ship, a large grin splitting his face. He was hurt, but the reward made the pain well worth it. The job had been a complete success, and they weren’t going to have to worry about units for a little while.

The object they were after was a rare plant that only grew in active geyser fields on a deserted, wasteland-like planet. It had been tricky getting the timing right, but he and Horuz had escaped the field unscathed. However, on the way back, they encountered a species that thrived off of the minerals found in the geysers, and were the reason that Horuz had needed a sharpshooter. The swift six legged animals had chased them all the way back to their ship. Kraglin had managed to keep the beasts off their heals, but he had tripped on a branch and ended up slicing open the back of his right leg. Despite this, they had managed to get to their buyer quickly and deliver the plant. The buyer had been ecstatic at their early arrival, and had even payed them a few extra hundred units for getting it to him so quickly.

Horuz helped him to the Med-bay, dropping him off just outside the door. Kraglin nodded his thanks before heading inside. He was surprised to see Yondu talking to Doc, the latter looking pale under the short, fuzz-like hair that covered his muzzle. He was covering his mouth with one of his paws, his ears folded back and drooping slightly. Uh-oh. That meant that whatever he was hearing was very bad. Kraglin felt his stomach roll as the thought that something horrible might have happened to Peter. Had… had Skyyar actually?

He limped into the room, making his presence known. His worry must have shown on his face because Yondu sighed, a startlingly ill and hollow look on his face. 

“Change of plans Krags’, yer gonna be a semi-permanent babysitter from now on.” Yondu said, the casual tone in his voice not matching his appearance.

Kraglin blinked, dumbfounded. That had been the last thing he had expected.

“P-pardon?!” He stammered, confusion heavy in his voice.

“We ain’t takin ‘im to his father!” Yondu snapped, his ears pressing against his head. He changed his expression quickly, looking surprised at his small outburst.

Kraglin reeled backwards, yelping as he put too much pressure on his bad leg. He nearly fell, but Yondu grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Kraglin moved to a nearby counter, leaning against it as he looked back and forth between his captain and the doctor.

“What happened while I was gone?” He asked, voice quieter than usual. His own ears twitched backwards slightly out of a faint sense of fear. 

Doc backed away, letting Yondu handle the conversation that needed to be had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a link to a google doc that has some art that i've done for this fic- https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ng_qefFvGEFOEzuN5KmzRY4nZ3F3i78xgqkgyhIYYzI/edit?usp=sharing


	10. Intruders Alert!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eclector comes under the attack, and Peter must save Kraglin.

After hearing Yondu recount the call he had with Ego, Kraglin had needed to go lie down. It was just as well, as he needed to rest his leg. As he made his way down the hallway that led to his room, he stopped at one of the doors that came before his own. He opened it slowly, peering inside. 

Peter was still sound asleep, curled up into a ball and covered in pillows and blankets, safe and sound. The knowledge that Peter was indeed okay helped soothe Kraglin’s nerves, and he shut the door quietly. Yondu had also told him about the incident with Skyyar during their somber talk, and he had called dibs on being second in line to give the scaly bastard a beating, as Yondu had already claimed the right to be first. 

‘Good riddance.’ He thought, a grim smirk forming on his face as he neared his door. He pushed it open, taking a moment to lean against the door frame and stretch before moving to his bed and collapsing onto it, falling into an exhausted yet uneasy slumber.

Peter yelped as he was thrown from his bed, a loud bang echoing throughout his room and rattling his core. Panicked, he scrambled up from where he had been flung and rushed out of his room. Red lights flashed as an alarm blared from somewhere deeper in the ship. Another bang sent him tumbling, the rough metal of the floor scraping his skin. However, he didn’t even register the pain as fear sank its cold fangs into his heart as the sounds of gunfire and yelling could be heard, drawing closer every second. He looked around desperately, searching for somewhere to hide.

Above him was an open vent, the grate having been loosened by whatever was causing the ship to rock and shake. It was higher than he normally would have been able to reach, but fear and adrenaline made him jump like he was on fire, and the vent was a cool pool of water. He scraped the metal interior, searching for purchase. He found it, and with a strength he didn’t now he had, Peter hauled himself up and into the tight space. It was too small for even a normal child to fit in, but luckily for Peter, he was very small for his age, and still rather thin.

He scrambled farther into the vent, which led to a ventilation shaft that sat above the hallway. Peter became deathly still and silent as 3 bloody and rough looking humanoids stomped down the hallways. The stench of death, rot, and unwashed bodies made Peter gag quietly, feeling nausea well up in his gut and chest.

Peter would have stayed perfectly still for as long as it took if he had to, but a startled yell caught him by surprise. One of the intruders had grabbed Kraglin from his room, disarming him and kicking the Xandarian in his leg, which Peter now noticed was wounded. They held him by his neck, crushing his windpipe, but leaving just enough room for a bit of air to wheeze in and out of the man’s lungs. 

“Well, well, well! Lookey what we got here boys! It’s Udonta’s bitch!” The pig-faced man chortled, cutting off the rest of Kraglin’s air.

Peter bristled. He wasn’t quite sure what the words meant, but he could tell that they were insults. Not only that, but they were very clearly hurting the man who had comforted him and taken care of him. A snarl formed on Peter’s lips. He hadn’t been able to fight back against Skyyar because he had been too afraid and hadn’t had time to react. Now, anger churned up a feeling of mad bravery in his heart. He carefully removed the thin, mesh-like covering that separated him from the men below and angled himself downward, adjusting his feet so that he could spring downward.

“Now, if you tell us where Ego’s brat is, I may consider giving you a quick dea-” The burly hog’s voice was cut off as he squealed in pain.

Blood squirted everywhere as Peter sunk his tiny fangs and sharp nails into a major artery in the pig’s reeking neck. He released Kraglin as the other two intruders leapt back in fear.

“Its a demon! Run!” One screamed, blood splashing across his face as he and the other, more fish-like trespasser bolted back down the hallway.

As Kraglin struggled to get air back into his lungs, the large hog that Peter was biting snapped out of his shocked state and grabbed the boy, snarling as he ripped him off his neck and hurled the child into the wall.

_Snap___

_ _Peter choked out a yelp before falling silent, sliding down the wall and landing in a crumpled heap. The beast panted, quickly pressing a large cloven hoof to his many bleeding wounds. Ripping Peter off of his neck had inadvertently caused what would have been a manageable wound to turn into a gory mess, blood flowing freely down his chest and shoulders. Unfortunately for him, his pause had given Kraglin enough time to recover, and the already angry Xandarian was now enraged. The first mate grabbed his gun and roared, shooting the hog in his large belly. When the other man turned in surprise and pain, he shot him again, aiming higher this time, hitting him right in the liver. He wanted the man to die a slow, painful death. The swine gurgled, blood now dripping from his mouth as he swayed, before dropping to the floor._ _

_ _After kicking the man’s weapon way, Kraglin hauled himself up and rushed over to Peter’s still unmoving form. The tiny child looked even smaller as he curled into the fetal position, his mouth and hands covered in the blood of Kraglin’s attacker. The boy had saved him, but at what cost?_ _

_ _“Pete? Peter?! PETER DAMN IT ANSWER ME!” Kraglin cried, pulling the child into his chest. _ _

_ _The child was still breathing, but unconscious. That was perhaps a good thing, as Peter’s left arm was clearly broken, the bone pushing against the boy’s skin. Kraglin panted in panic, not sure exactly what he should do. Peter needed help, but where could he go? They were still under attack!_ _

_ _Help came in the form of sharp, furious whistling and dying screams being silenced. Yondu rounded the corner, his Yaka arrow flying loyal beside him, dripping with crimson. He almost attacked Kraglin, but stopped upon recognizing his first mate. Yondu blanched as he realized why Kraglin was kneeling, his eyes locking on the blood soaked forms of two people he cared about, one of which he had just sworn to protect. He ran over, skidding to a stop as he saw the wounds adorning the body near Kraglin, the thin yet deep gashes that looked like claws had raked through the intruder’s pink flesh. He looked at Peter, his ears falling back against his head as he bared his teeth in surprise and sympathy at the boys wounds. It was then that he noticed the blood dripping from Peter’s nails and teeth._ _

_ _“What happened?!” He asked, gently gathering Peter into one arm as he helped Kraglin up._ _

_ _“That fat cunt managed to grab me and get me in the leg and started squeezing the life outta my neck. He insulted me, then started askin ‘bout Peter, before the screaming started. Kid came out of nowhere and dropped onto him and started tearing into his neck. The other fuckers ran off, but that swine bastard managed to rip the kid offa him and chucked ‘im into the wall. I managed to shoot ‘im, but I wasn’t fast enough to stop him fro hurtin Pete.” Kraglin explained hoarsely, hanging his head in shame._ _

_ _“Don’t go blaming yerself Krags. There wern’t nothin ye could have done. Now, let's get this scum offa our ship.” He said, tossing Kraglin a blaster._ _

_ _Kraglin smiled and loaded the weapon, limping forward a bit before looking back at Yondu. _ _

_ _“Captain, you should get Peter somewhere safe and let me get rid o’ these bastards.” He said, not wanting to drag Peter into the battlefield. _ _

_ _Yondu grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve know the safest place to stash ‘em.” He said, before placing his arrow into it’s holster and undoing his jacket with his spare hands._ _

_ _

_ _Doc tied some gauze around Cook’s right arm, focusing on standing still. His left hoof was firmly planted in the chest cavity of a foolish bounty hunter who had dared barge into his sacred domain. The feeling of guts being crushed beneath his hoof was both satisfying and gross. _ _

_ _A single knock was the only alert he got before the door to his Med-bay flew open. He didn’t move to strike, because only a fellow ravager would know to knock after a battle, lest they receive a strong kick to the gut, or jaws closing around their throat. Doc turned, expecting to see Watercress, Cook’s mate, and was shocked to see a blood-soaked Kraglin rush in, followed by Yondu, who was covering his chest with one hand, guarding something under his shirt. _ _

_ _He lifted his hoof out of the gore it was resting in, calling forth a gurgle from the dying Skrull that lay on the floor._ _

_ _“What happened?” Doc questioned, ushering Kraglin to one of the medical beds. He looked back at Yondu, searching for the small body that he should have been able to see. “Where is the whelp?”_ _

_ _“Kraglin got jumped. As for Peter, he’s hurt, but he’s safe.” Yondu said, lifting up his blood splattered shirt to reveal Peter, who was tucked snugly into the Centaurian’s pouch._ _

_ _Doc’s eyes widened in surprise. Centaurians very rarely used their pouches, reserving the space for their pup and their pup alone. So it came as a great surprise that Yondu was using it to carry Peter. Getting over his shock, he walked over and held out both his hands, not brave enough to grab an injured youngling right from a stressed and pissed off Centaurian’s pouch. The captain gently eased the boy out, being careful not to jostle the boy’s arm. Doc hissed as he saw how bad the break was, rushing over to an operating table as soon as he was sure that he had a decent hold on the boy. He smelled drying blood, and upon seeing it on Peter’s hands and mouth, he looked to his Captain for answers as he began to search for anesthetic._ _

_ _“Krags said that the boy clawed and bit the shit out of one of those bastards. Motherfucker threw the kid against the wall.” Yondu snarled, his prosthetic Tahlei glowing with rage._ _

_ _Doc nodded, hooking Peter up to the anesthetic. He could see and feel the signs of attachment growing in Yondu and Kraglin, though neither man would ever admit it. Unbeknownst to all, his species were empaths and he could feel the surge of a warm feeling whenever Peter did something cute or that made them proud. If the child awoke while he was setting his arm, he couldn’t be sure if the whelps guardian’s wouldn't act violently. Cook, it seemed, could also see this possibility, and was comforting Kraglin, helping the man redress his bandages. Yondu didn’t seem to be hurt, and the captain began dragging the now dead Skrull out of the room, likely trying to distract himself._ _

_ _Doc focused his attention on Peter’s arm. He made sure that the drugs were working, before grabbing his x-ray glasses and a scalpel and getting to work._ _


	11. The resting period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick, fluffy chap.

Peter was still asleep a few days later, the anesthetic having a greater effect on his body than Doc had originally thought. During those days, Kraglin would watch over Peter, becoming the boy’s sentry. The man felt guilty for not reacting sooner and still partiality blamed himself for Peter’s injuries. 

The news of Peter’s vicious attack had spread, and as a result, Peter gained some respect, or at the very least some tolerance from most of the Ravagers, so when Yondu announced that they were keeping the boy, under the guise that the boy would make them more units if they kept him, very few protests were heard, the loudest of them coming from Taserface. These were, to the annoyance of Taserface, drowned out by cheers of approval. The kid had proven to not be a liability, and a few Ravagers even took interest in helping to rear Peter until he could take care of himself. Among these were Watercress, Cook, Doc and Horuz, 

Watercress was not only Cook’s mate, but a master navigator. The large bipedal otter-like Ravager had a sleek cream coloured coat and a frosted back speckled with mint green. Her paws were a chocolate brown, and the webbing between them was a soft leaf green colour. She offered to babysit when Yondu and Kraglin both needed to be away, or just needed a break, and, when Peter was older, she would teach him to navigate.

Horuz was a pilot and had a knack for repairing things. He wouldn’t watch Peter, but he would teach him to do repairs and recognize tools. He also urged Yondu to teach the boy to fight early on so that Peter wouldn’t throw himself teeth and nails first at the next enemy he encountered, and offered to build the boy a training blaster.  
Doc said that he would teach Peter first aid, and Cook would help watch him and teach him to, well, cook.

Yondu was glad to see that his crew was being so helpful. He had expected to have to off a few people, but was pleasantly surprised. He gave them his sincere thanks, before pulling Cook, Watercress and Horuz aside as Doc went to check on Peter and Kraglin. He felt that, since they were going to be playing a bigger role in Peter’s life, they deserved to know the truth.

Doc walked into the room as quietly as he could, his hooves clacking on the now pristine floor. Soft snores sounded from where Kraglin and Peter were situated. Peering over, he saw a sight that made him wish he had a camera.

Peter was snuggled up against Kraglin’s chest, almost hidden in the man’s arms. The child must have woken up while he was gone, as the monitoring patches had been taken off. Kraglin, even in his sleep, had draped a protective arm over Peter and pulled him close, a sleepy smile on his face.

Doc smiled, fetching the softest blanket he had and draping it over the sleeping pair. Peter let out a small yawn and snuggled deeper into Kraglin’s chest. 

‘So cute!’ Doc thought, not used to seeing such acts of affection on a Ravager ship.

He backed up, leaving the two alone to sleep, but not before snatching one of his medical pads and snapping a quick picture.


	12. A Lesson in Language

After the attack, Yondu made sure that they dropped off of the radar for a bit. While some of the crew were off doing some low profile jobs, he took it upon himself to teach Peter something that might save his life, should something like that ever happen again.

He sat in his chair, Peter sitting on a plush pillow on the ground in front of him, his arm held in a sling. The child had been given a concoction of drugs, including a sort of numbing drug in his arm, and thus was only annoyed by his dominant hand being unusable instead of feeling the pain that one would usually feel after breaking a bone. Despite being sleepy from the drugs, Peter was eager to once again learn something new from Yondu.

“Alright boy, I’m gonna teach you sumthin that most folks will never learn to do.” He stated, taking his arrow out of its quiver and holding it up in the light, spinning it slightly.

“See this arrow? It’s made of a special sound-sensitive metal called Yaka, and it listens to me, and me alone. You see boy, my people speak a very different language than most sentient species. We speak in whistles, clicks and growls. I use certain whistles to make the arrow bend to my will.” Yondu continued, demonstrating this ability by making the arrow soar through the air and loop around before loyally returning to its place in his hand. 

“Centaurian can’t be processed by the translators, which means that if you learn it, it will be a safe way for you to communicate with me, if the need ever arises.” He explained, before tucking the arrow back into it’s quiver.

Peter’s ears were perked forward as far as they could go, which wasn’t very far. He was almost vibrating in excitement at this point, eagerly awaiting his lesson. Most children his age would not share his enthusiasm, but a large part of Peter demanded more knowledge when it was offered.

“We’ll start off with something simple, but useful. Try to mimic me, alright?” Yondu said, before whistling a sharp note and ending with a sort of soft chatter.

Peter struggled for a moment with the sharpness of the whistle, but some kind of borderline familiar instinct shifted something in his throat, which allowed him to replicate the call.

“Like that?” Peter asked. It has sounded right, but he wanted to make sure.

Yondu was surprised by how well Peter had spoken his language. Most species didn’t have the right vocal organs to get the sound right. Centaurians like himself had a syrinx in the same place birds did, which helped them vocalize their more complicated calls. Perhaps Terrans had something similar?

“Just like that! You just called for help.” He praised.

That wasn’t an exact translation. What Peter had actually said was ‘pouchling pup in danger”, but saying that would have meant that he would likely have to explain what a pouchling was, and he didn’t feel like doing that right now.

Peter glowed under the praise, now visibly very excited. Yondu figured that since Peter could do one of the more difficult whistles.

“Alright, try this one…”

Kraglin wandered into the main pilot area, looking around for Yondu and Peter. His leg was wrapped in tight bandages and was well on its way to healing, although the wound would scar. It was lunch time, and afterwards he needed to take Peter to the Med-bay. The sound of whistling caught his attention, drawing his gaze to where Yondu usually was, only to see something he didn’t expect.

Peter was copying Yondu’s whistles and growls, speaking in a language even he barely understood. Yondu looked relaxed and happy, and Peter was aglow with excitement. Kraglin took a moment to smile at the scene before rapping his knuckles on a nearby wall. The two other males in the room looked at him, their ears perking up. Peter grinned before issuing a musical sounding whistle. Yondu smirked at Kraglin’s cocked head and confused but still happy face.

“Kid says hello.” He explained.

Kraglin exhaled, amused. He was glad that Peter was picking up Centaurian so quickly, just in case the boy ever needed to call for Yondu’s aid.

“Sounds pretty good kid. Now come on, its lunchtime.” Kraglin said, turning to walk back down to the mess hall.  
Peter quickly caught up to him, trying to match the man’s footsteps, Yondu followed behind him, albeit slower. As they walked, something caught Peter’s eye. It was an area that seemed to contain cells made of metal bars and was segregated from the rest of the ship. 

“What's that?” Peter asked, peering down from the open hallway he was on, more of a walkway than a hallway now.

“That’s the brig, its where we put anyone who breaks the rules and needs a reminder on how to behave.” Kraglin explained.

“Like Skyyar?” Peter asked, eyes searching for the large serpent.

“Exactly. We should be able to get rid o’ that bastard soon.” Yondu said, an aggressive growl in his voice.

Peter scanned the area. He couldn’t see the scary reptile among the shining metal.

“Um, Cap-tain? I don’t see him. Are you sure he’s down there?” Peter said, standing on his tiptoes as he looked down at the brig.

Yondu turned his full attention to the brig, eyes narrowing as he realized that he couldn’t see Skyyar either. A feeling of uneasiness rolled in his stomach.

“...Kraglin, take Peter down to the mess hall and get yer’self and him some grub. I’m gonna go take a look and make sure our scaly friend is still locked up.” He said, before heading towards the stairs that led to the lower floors, summoning his arrow to fly alongside him.


	13. Missing Snake

Yondu made his way down the stairs, not disguising his steps, but not drawing attention to himself either. A low, quiet whistle keeping his arrow by his side. He walked into the brig, his ears swiveling as best as they could to try and detect the sound of scales sliding against metal, or Skyyar’s hissing breaths. Nothing could be heard, save for the familiar consent rumbles of the engine room, which lay right beneath the brig. 

Cautiously now, he crept around, peering into each of the cells as he passed by them. They were all empty, but one had been broken open. A few hard scales and drops of blood were visible on the ground around the broken door. Yondu picked one up and turned it around in his fingers, a burning feeling flooding his chest and face as anger bubbled up.

Yondu snarled and threw the scale down, stomping on it. He paced angrily, his Tahlei glowing as he growled, causing an intimidating red glow to be cast over his face, enhancing the crimson of his eyes. He stalked back up the stairs, heading for the mess hall.

Once he made it there, he got Kraglin’s attention by connecting to his com-link. Kraglin raised his head, searching for the captain. When he spotted him, Kraglin’s face fell, understanding that something had indeed happened. Watercress was sitting with Kraglin, and upon seeing the first mate’s change of demeanor, set about distracting Peter, offering to show the boy some planets after lunch. Someone must have said something, because her ear twitched and a scowl came across her features, but she reined herself in and returned her attention to Peter as Kraglin slipped away from the table. At this time a few other Ravagers had noticed Yondu’s presence and raised their eyebrows, wondering why their captain was looking more murderous than usual. He made a small hand gesture, the symbol for “we’ll discuss it later”. They nodded, satisfied.

Kraglin was at Yondu’s side as the Centaurian led them both out of the room, the two men not noticing the argument that was slowly escalating behind them. 

“What’s wrong?” Kraglin asked as soon as they were out of the room. Yondu made a sharp right turn, heading towards where the hanger was.

“Skyyar wasn’t in the brig. I think that yellow bellied dickhead broke out during the chaos and stole an escape pod.” Yondu explained, making his way down a flight of stairs.

Kraglin cursed loudly, a snarl of his own gracing his scarred face. He was grateful that Yondu had taken him out of the room before telling him the news, otherwise he might have said a few words that were not suitable for young ears.

As the two made their way into the hanger, they first checked the main ships for stolen parts or damage, then after they were satisfied, moved onto the escape pods. One was indeed missing, and Kraglin asked Yondu if they should track it.

“Nah. As angry as I am, the chances of us finding him without drawing attention to ourselves is too low.” He paused, before adding “But that doesn’t mean we can’t blow the pod up.” Yondu grinned at Kraglin, who grinned right back.

As they approached the mess hall after taking care of the escape pod, shouting could be heard echoing out into the hall. The two men looked at each other, before quickly throwing open the door. 

Chaos was controlling the energy of the room. Chairs were thrown, as were punches. Blood and a few teeth and scales were decorating the floor as the crew fought. At the center of the room was Doc, Watercress and Cook. Watercress was holding Peter against her chest as she perched on Cook’s shoulder’s, the much bigger female bloodying her fists by hounding on Taserface. Doc was snarling and pawing his hoof on the ground, daring one of the Ravager’s that had protested Peter staying on the ship to try something. The Ravager was dumb enough to charge, trying to cut the equine and managing to nick Doc’s ear. This placed him in a poor position, however, as the doctor fell forward and raised his back legs, striking the Ravager with a powerful kick that sent him sprawling.

Yondu snapped out of his shock and let out a sharp whistle, the sound causing the fight to cease. Doc righted himself as Cook tossed Taserface away, lowering herself so that Watercress could hop down. The otter had some bruises on her face, but she held herself in a prideful manner. Kraglin went over to her, and she relinquished a shaken Peter, they boy clinging to Kraglin as best he could. Taserface, being the dumbass that he was, tried to mutter something through his bloodied and swollen lips, but was effectively silenced by Cook’s thunder-like growl.

“Now.” Yondu said coldly, surveying the room with a hard gaze. “Someone wanna tell me what exactly happened here? Or am I going to have to get violent?” He asked, his arrow flaring a crimson red in it’s quiver, displaying the threat without even moving.

Doc stepped forward, not-so-subtly stepping on the Ravager who had cut him.

“Taserface here decided that it would be appropriate to start calling Watercress here weak for, and I quote, “babying the little bitch”.” Doc explained, his left ear twitching towards the ground. “So she punched him, and if I may say, rightfully so. After that, things got a bit wild.” He said, blushing slightly at his own gung-ho actions.

“Weel whit th' fook wis ah suppose tae dae? Juist sit thare 'n' let him blether lik' that?” Watercress asked, her fiery temper flaring up. Cook smoothed her mate’s fur down, attempting to not dirty it with blood.

“Nah. I say you did the right thing by punching this asshole, hell, I’d’ve done a lot worse myself. Horuz, Cook, throw this bastard into the brig and make sure he’s locked up tight. Rest of ye, get to cleaning this place up!” He finished with a commanding shout, sending the once still crew into action.

Yondu turned to Kraglin, who was comforting Peter. 

“You okay kid? Ye get hit anywhere?” He asked, looking him over.  
Peter shook his head before pressing it back into Kraglin’s chest, still shaking. 

Yondu lowered his voice to a whisper as he addressed Kraglin. “Take the kid back to his room and give ‘im that little music box he likes so much. Might help him calm down.” 

Kraglin smiled and nodded, readjusting Peter before heading out of the mess hall, murmuring comforting words as he rubbed the boy’s back, showing a more affectionate side of him that almost never came out.

Kraglin set the boy down on his bed, but Peter was still shivering, his wet eyes staring pleadingly up at Kraglin, wanting the man to stay. Kraglin sighed softly and grabbed the Walkman from its position underneath a stuffed animal, handing it to Peter. The kid smiled as he held it, before asking Kraglin if he wanted to listen to music with him.

It had been a while since he had heard something other than the background noise of a bar that vaguely resembled a tune, so he took up the offer. Peter layed down, prompting Kraglin to do the same. Peter snuggled closer to Kraglin, putting one half of the headphones onto Kraglin's left ear, and the other half on his own right ear, before pressing play.

_"Ooh child things are gonna be easier. Ooh child things'll be brighter..."_


	14. Beach Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump time baby.

A few years passed, and Peter grew taller, now currently standing just below Kraglin's hip. At the age of 6, the Eclector had become his whole world, as he had not yet been permitted to leave the ship, even when they visited relatively safe planets. That was about to change, however, as the crew was stopping on a uninhabited planet for a rest and to lie low. Kraglin and Yondu had been gone for two weeks on a big job, and had almost finished it without issue, but a Nova Corps officer had seen through their disguises. They had still gotten away with their prize, a priceless royal jewel, but the had attracted the attention of the law in the process.

Peter hopped out of the vents and landed next to Horuz, who was watching over him while he worked. Out of all his instructors, Horuz was the most strict, although sometimes Yondu matched him in that regard. Peter detested this fact, but, although he would never admit it, it did force him to do better, and thanks to the man's stubbornness, he could navigate the entire ventilation system without needing a map, though he still kept one on his person, just in case.

"You find what was making all that noise?" Horuz asked gruffly.

Peter nodded and held up a garbage bag that he had been holding. "Serkon nest. Nasty lil guys were almost ready to leave th' nest."

"Ye should give 'em to Cook. She loves them little pests." Horuz suggested as they exited the engine room. "They cause any damage?"

"A few scratches, but only shallow ones. The smell might stick for a while though." Peter said, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

"We're lucky they ain't able to get into the air ducts then." Horuz said humorously. Peter gagged at the thought of it.

"So what's this planet like?" Peter asked, breaking the silence that had formed after their previous conversation had ended. The two were now making their way up to the navigation deck, after Peter had grabbed a quick shower and put on some cleaner clothes.

"Topical and humid. Lots of water." Horuz replied, scratching his chin as he thought about it. "Doc hates it there because he gets overheated. Poor bastard actually shaved his fur off once when we got stranded on a similar planet. So don't expect to see too much of him."

Peter tried to imagine what a topical planet would look like, as he had never actually gotten to see something like that for himself, only having seen pictures in his books. He longed to feel some truly warm air, although he hoped it would not dehydrate him like the hot, dry air of the engine room. The heat was nice, but he could never stay for long. He wetted his lips, disliking how chapped they had become from working in the sweltering vents. 

Horuz opened the door to the mess hall, letting Peter walk through. The young boy walked over to the metal counter. He still couldn't see over it, but he had grown enough that he could pull himself up and onto the metal surface.

"Cook! I got sumthin for ya!" He yelled, half of his body dangling over the edge as he heaved the bag onto the counter.  
Cook lumbered out of the kitchen, sniffing the air.

"Mmmm Serkons! Noisy bastards but tasty as all hell. Want me to fry you up one, Peter?" She asked, taking the bag and pulling Peter up the rest of the way. 

Peter stuck out his tongue as he remembered the smell. Anything that smelled that bad couldn't be good for him.

"No thanks, I'm good." He declined, swinging his legs over the edge. "You excited to have some time off?" 

"You have no idea. This ship is freezing compared to my homelands." Cook said, a shiver running through her, her spines and frills shaking as she turned back to the rodents within the bag.

Peter stuck close to Kraglin as the ship touched down. Nervousness battled with excitement over which one he felt more of. His hands trembled as he slowly walked down the exit ramp, his eyes widening as a gust of warm, salty air hit him in the face. He nearly stumbled when he reached the sand, his feet unused to not being on sturdy, unmoving ground. He knelt down to touch the foreign soil, recoiling slightly at the unexpected heat, before he shoved his hands in, slowly sinking down before allowing his body to drop to the ground, relishing the warmth that spread through his body. It was as though the planet’s three suns were wrapping him in a blanket of sunshine and happiness. He smiled even as the sand pressed into his skin, content to stay right where he was.

“Kid, what are you doing?” Kraglin asked, an amused tone to his voice as he ended the question with a laugh.

“Being happy.” Peter sighed, his voice muffled by the golden grains.  
“Well get up and come be happy somewhere else. We’re moving down the beach.” Kraglin chuckled. He lifted Peter up from the sand and dusted him off, placing the child back on his feet.

Peter pouted but quickly changed his tune when he saw something that blew sand out of the water. A humongous blue ocean sent waves crashing onto the land, sending up a spray of white foam. His tune was changed, for sure, but not in a happy way. He felt a sense of fear and dread as he gazed at the massive waves. He moved behind Kraglin, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the ocean. Kraglin looked between the water and the child hiding behind his legs.

“Whats wrong Pete? I thought you'd've loved the ocean.” Kraglin asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Peter shook his head, his ears falling back. They had grown quicker than the rest of his head and seemed comically long as they drooped.

“Can’t swim.” Peter replied, looking down at the sand as he spoke, his face flushed red in embarrassment.

Kraglin pitied the kid. Peter had been so excited to finally visit a planet, and now he wouldn’t be able to enjoy one of the funner parts of a tropical world. He thought for a moment, then looked towards the shallow waters that he knew were further down the beach.

“Would ye like to learn?” He asked. Kraglin wasn’t the best swimmer himself, but he figured Watercress would be more than happy to help.

Peter looked up at Kraglin, the redness receding back from his face. “You’d teach me? For real?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure kid. Come on, let's go grab you some swim trunks.”

Peter danced at the water’s edge, feeling the cool liquid splash over his feet. His previous excitement had halted once he realized that learning to swim would involve getting in the water. He paced along the shore, not brave enough to suck it up and jump in. The water was shallow for a few feet, and then gradually got deeper the farther you went in. Kraglin was standing in the water already, the ocean lapping at his shoulders as he waited for Peter.

“Come on Pete! You’ll warm up once you get in.” He called out, trying to convince the boy to come in. 

Yondu, who had been sunning himself on a rocky outcrop, flipped onto his side and peered down at the two. As the years had passed, he, Peter and Kraglin had slowly become an odd kind of family, although he was loathe to admit that notion to himself, let alone anyone else. He found that he unconsciously never strayed too far from Peter and/or Kraglin, whom he had forged an even stronger relationship with, one that most people would call friendship, whereas before it had been a sense of mutual camaraderie born from a deep respect that the two men had for each other, and often had to remind himself that distance was necessary, less his not-so-subtle favouritism spark mutiny. In the past, such a thing would have been an unfortunate annoyance, but now that they had Peter, he didn’t want to risk the child being harmed, or worst, killed.

“Come on Peter, just get in the damn water!” Kraglin said, a suffering tone to his voice.

Yondu looked at Peter, who had his ears back and an indecisive look on his face. The captain rolled his eyes and jumped down off of the rock he had been laying on. He silently moved behind the uncertain child, picked him up, and promptly threw him into the ocean. Peter screamed as he was launched into the air, Kraglin instinctively surging forward to try and catch the boy, but was unable to reach Peter before he hit the water.

A few seconds later, Peter surfaced, spitting out seawater as he coughed. Kraglin let the boy hold onto him as he regained his breath. The first mate glared at Yondu, who didn’t look at all sorry.

“YONDU! What the hell did you think you were doing?!” Kraglin shouted, his glare sharp and his eyes narrowed. If looks could kill, Yondu would be nothing more than a corpse.

“What? That’s how my daddy taught me.” Yondu replied, before smirking. “’sides, it worked, didn’t it?”

Kraglin looked down, only to realize that Peter was no longer holding onto his arm, but was instead paddling around, a happy smile on his face as he swam. Kraglin still didn’t approve of Yondu’s method, but couldn’t deny that it had worked. The sound of splashing drew his attention back to the shore, only to see that Yondu had decided to join them, and was apparently very good at swimming, as he easily moved through the water, cutting through it like it was air. 

Kraglin ducked under the water as he felt his cheeks heat up, drawing his gaze away from Yondu’s shirtless chest. It was a rare sight, but Kraglin would not permit himself to look for too long. Not only was it rude, but he couldn’t imagine that his captain would be too comfortable with him openly staring directly at his chest. He swam downwards, searching the ocean floor for any shells. He saw one that was a sea foam green colour and formed a round spiral. He snatched it up and resurfaced. 

After taking a deep breath of fresh air, he looked around for Peter, wanting to try and tempt the boy into trying to swim underwater, only to see that Yondu already had that covered, slowly whistling as Peter darted underneath the waves, chasing the glowing arrow as it made its way through the water. Kraglin smiled fondly at the sweet scene, feeling relaxed as he watched Yondu and Peter play together, a genuine smile on the Centaurian.

The heartwarming moment was broken when Kraglin yelped, holding up his hand to reveal a small crustacean that was pinching his index finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OwO whats this? A time jump? In my fic? It's more likely than you think.


	15. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter experiences his first thunderstorm. It doesn't go very well.

Peter snored softly, his head resting on Yondu’s stomach as he napped, tired from all of the swimming he had done. Currently, he, Yondu and Kraglin were napping on a relatively flat rock. They hadn’t started out in this position, but as the temperature slowly dropped, he had instinctively sought out the warmest body, which happened to be Yondu. Kraglin had done much the same, curling into the captain’s chest, one of Yondu’s arms draped over his back. 

A drop of water splashed onto Peter’s face, rousing him from sleep. He blinked, not really awake as he tried to figure out why he had been woken up. Another drop hit his ear, and he twitched it out of reflex. Peter sat up, shivering slightly as he felt how chilly the air had gotten. Glancing upwards, he blanched, fear causing his heart to leap into his throat. Dark, ominous clouds loomed overhead. 

Now, Peter knew what storms were, but had never actually experienced one. The wind kicked up, and Peter tumbled backwards, coughing as he fell flat on his back, his body smashing into the rock. He lay there, stunned for a moment, before forcing his limbs to work. A loud noise rumbled, and Peter leaned over, hand outstretched as he reached to shake Yondu and Kraglin awake. 

A flash of light split the stormy air, followed by the loudest boom he had ever heard that sounded out across the beach, tearing a scream from Peter’s throat and retching the two other men from sleep. Peter stumbled backwards, the edge of the rock crumbling as he backed up. He felt his stomach drop as he fell into open air. He couldn’t even think to take in a breath of air before he hit the raging water. The chilled liquid rushed into his mouth, choking the boy. Peter clawed and kicked at the water, desperate for air as he fought against the rising tides. When he finally broke the surface, he coughed weakly, forcing the water out of his mouth and throat. He could see the shore and made a break for it. He paddled through the salty seawater, the waves pulling him back, only to push him forward. His ears were ringing as another clap of thunder sent a ripple of adrenaline surging through his veins. He could hear shouting, someone calling for him, but a deep, primal fear gripped him, and as soon as his hands touched the wet sand, Peter bolted, making a beeline for the forest.

Kraglin awoke with a start as a boom of thunder and a high-pitched scream pierced his ears. He cursed in fright as a gust of wind sent a spray of water and rocks across his bare back. Yondu had also woken up, his pointed ears pulled back in shock. He whipped his head around, his eyes searching for the small body that he knew should be there.

“Where’s Peter?!” He asked, having to raise his voice to be heard over the raging storm.

Kraglin scanned the area, only to go pale when he saw a few pebbles crumble off of the rock and fall into the ocean. Kraglin jumped to his feet and raced to the edge, Yondu right behind him. To his horror, he saw a tiny figure clawing at the water in a desperate attempt to beat the waves that crashed all around him. 

“PETER!” He screamed, gripping his head in panic.

“BOY GIT YER ASS OVER HERE SO WE CAN PULL YOU UP!” Yondu called, desperation and fear heavy in his voice.

If Peter heard them, he ignored them, choosing instead to make for the shore, and, upon reaching it, bolt towards the forest, disappearing into the bush. 

“Shit!” They both yelled, running down the rock and scrambling across the sand.

Peter ran through the thick, tropical woods. He stumbled a few times, nearly face planting in the dirt. A mad idea seized him, and he leapt onto a tree, his nails feeling stronger and sharper than they ever had before. He clawed his way up the thick, sturdy tree, his heart pounding against his chest so hard that he can almost feel it pressing his chest against the bark of the tree. He made his way to a cluster of twisting, thin branches, sweating and shivering as he curled into a ball, sobbing in terror. He longed for the warmth and comfort of Yondu and Kraglin, and Peter wants nothing more to call out for his guardians. No, they were more than that, he realized. They were his parents. He opened his mouth to call for them, but a loud crack of noise stole his voice, causing him to recoil back. His ears pressed against his wet hair as a breeze pierces the foliage of the tree. Peter shivered violently, his teeth chattering. He tucked his limbs as far underneath his torso as they would go, and flattened himself against the smooth tree bark.

Yondu peered into the darkness, his eyes more accustomed to seeing in the dark than Kraglin’s. In hindsight, they should have gone and grabbed the crew, but neither man was going to let Peter stay lost for longer than was absolutely necessary. 

“Peter! PETER!” Kraglin called, his breaths quick and ragged. The Xandarian was chilled, and not just from the fear that gripped him. They had quickly thrown on their clothes that they had brought along before entering the forest, but they offered little warmth with how wet they were.

“Where are ye boy?!” Yondu shouted, searching the trees. A small, dark lump caught his eye. It wasn’t really moving, but something about it made him pause. Then, the smallest, faintest noise made his ears perk up. His ears shot up and he immediately whistled in response. There was silence for a few seconds, before a stronger, louder note called out to Yondu, the first words of Centaurian that he had ever taught Peter.

Parental instincts that had lain mostly dormant for his entire life awoke with a frighting vengeance. He pounced onto the trunk of the tree, using the skills that he had learned in his youth to scale the tree. He searched the branches, looking for anywhere a small child might hide. A bramble of twisting branches shifted, and not from the wind. Wide, terror-filled eyes stared pleadingly at Yondu from the mess of wood. He sighed in relief as reached over, moving some of the branches away. There sat Peter, shivering in terror, pain and cold. Cuts that he had received in his blind panic bled and created small rivers of scarlet that dripped onto the branch. Yondu’s gaze softened as he tried to comfort the shaking child.

“C’mere boy.” He said softly, his voice warm and comforting as he gathered Peter into his arms. 

Peter latched onto Yondu, burying his face into the man’s chest. Peter, though he had gotten bigger, was still very small and light. In about a year, he would be too big for Yondu to carry in his pouch, but for now, the pup was still small enough for him to be able to carry him. Gently, with one hand still gripping a thick branch, he eased the boy off of his chest and tucked him into his pouch. Peter welcomed the warmth and wiggled in, his slick skin allowing him to slide in easily. Yondu shivered at the feeling, but felt his heartbeat slow as a sense of calm washed over him.

He slid down the tree, landing gracefully. Kraglin hadn’t left his spot, and his hands hovered slightly, like he had been ready to catch Peter just in case the boy had slipped from Yondu’s grasp. He gave a relieved, shaky laugh, wiping a hand across half of his face. Yondu patted Kraglin’s shoulder, resting his hand there as he turned to exit the forest. 

C’mon. Lets get the hell out of this rain.”

Peter sneezed feverishly, his ears shooting up before drooping back down. Kraglin gently pet his hair, leaning against one of the pillows that lay beneath him. Yondu and himself had refused to let Peter out of their sight, even when Doc was treating him. Hypothermia, he had said, was what Peter was suffering from. The doctor told Kraglin and Yondu that the boy needed to be kept warm and comforted. He gave the two a heavy, heated blanket to wrap Peter in, and allowed them to take him out of the Med-bay with the promise of bringing him back tomorrow. Cook and Watercress promised to make Peter some soup, and Horuz set about repairing Peter’s Walkman, which the boy had brought with him and that had unfortunately gotten soaked.

Kraglin had been prepared to take Peter into his own room, but Yondu had offered his sleeping quarters to both Kraglin and Peter. It had surprised Kraglin at first, but then he realized that Yondu, like him, wanted to stay near Peter. The Centaurian gave up his bed to his first mate and the sick child he held in his arms, while he took a small couch that sat on the other side of the room, close enough that he could see both males, but far enough away as to not enter their personal space.

Kraglin settled in, pulling another blanket over Peter. There was still plenty of space left on the comfortable bed. He glanced at Peter, who still shook sometimes, and then at the extra space, before finally looking at Yondu. He swallowed, before opening his mouth to speak.

“You know, Petey is still pretty cold, and there’s plenty of space on the bed still. That couch doesn’t look too comfortable…” Kraglin said, gesturing to the empty space. 

Yondu looked at Kraglin, blinking a few times in surprise.

“You sure yer okay wit that?” He asked slowly, his ears perked forward in surprise. Kraglin nodded, absentmindedly tucking the blankets in snugly around Peter as he drifted off to sleep.

Yondu shrugged off his coat and made his way over to his side of the bed, getting under the soft covers. Yondu stiffened, but slowly relaxed his muscles. He yawned and pulled the blankets up to his collar bone. He was tired and more than a little cold, and the idea of a warm night’s rest sounded unbelievably good. He would chew Peter out for running blindly into an unknown forest during a storm later, when he was feeling better. For now though, sleep seemed like the best option.


	16. Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter loses his baby teeth, no big deal right?
> 
> ...Right?

The storm had instilled a sense of fear and cautiousness in Peter, but only for a few months. After a while, he became restless and antsy. He traversed every area he was allowed to visit, mentally mapping out the entire ship in his free time. To top it all off, something was going on with his teeth. A few of them wiggled when he pressed his tongue against them, and he could feel them becoming looser. It was rather distressing.

He paced around his small room, his ears twitching in displeasure. A few of the Ravagers that had gone out on a job had come back sick, and Yondu had confined him to his room while Doc got them quarantined and the hanger bay was disinfected. He flopped down onto his bed, grabbing one of his books and lazily flipping through it, his tongue absentmindedly flicking across his teeth. He hadn’t realized it, but he had been pushing against one of his loose teeth.

A weak brush against the top of the tooth pushed it out, and Peter coughed, spitting the tooth out into his hand, his face paling at the sight of blood. He turned it around, a sense of morbid curiosity compelling him to inspect it. He put a hand up to his mouth, wincing at the feeling of his bloody gum. It didn’t hurt, which surprised him. Slowly, he gently pulled at his other loose tooth. The first tooth had been one of his front teeth, while this was one of his fangs. The little white thing dropped into his hand easily, having had very little tissue still connecting it to his gums.

“Huh.” He whispered, licking away some of the blood on his gums. The salty liquid tasted like coins on his tongue as he cringed, his nose wrinkling up at the taste. 

A knock pulled his attention away from the teeth in his hand. His door opened, revealing Watercress, who stuck her head in the door frame.

“Pete? Captain says tis okay tae come oot now.” She said, leaning into the room. Her pupils shrank upon seeing the boy holding two of his teeth, blood trickling out of his mouth.

“Gods! Whit th' hell happened tae yer teeth pup?” She asked, stepping fully into the room and opening Peter’s mouth, causing the boy to gag in surprise, looking at where the teeth had been. “Hmm, na signs o' rot or decay, 'n' doesn't smell or look diseased.” She released Peter’s jaw, and he moved it around, rubbing the spot where she had gripped it.

“Ah think Kraglin micht hae mentioned something lik' this wance. C'moan pup, lets go an fin' some answers.”

Kraglin ran a wet rag over the wing of the M-ship he was washing, a bored expression on his face. 

“KRAGLIN! KRAG-LIN!”

The sound of Watercress and Peter’s panicked voices surprised him, and he almost fell off of the ladder he was standing on. He quickly climbed down, his feet touching the ground just as the doors that led into the hanger opened, and two figures rushed in, their size and colours making them instantly recognizable.

“What is it? Whats wrong?” He asked, dropping down onto one knee as Peter ran up to him, blood speckled around his mouth.

“His teeth ur falling oot! is that suppose tae happen?” Watercress questioned, her ears folded down against her head.

Peter showed Kraglin the two teeth in his hand, and Kraglin squinted at them before chuckling and ruffling Peter’s hair.  
“That’s normal. Yer just growin’ in yer adult teeth, that’s all. They’re just bigger versions of the teeth they have now. Ain’t nothing to be worried about.”

Okay, it _might_ actually be something to worry about.

Peter had been in quite a bit of pain for the past week now, and on top of loosing a few more teeth, it only seemed to be getting worse. The young boy cringed as Doc poked at his gums softly, muttering under his breath.

“It doesn’t make any sense. His teeth should have come in by now, and while a bit of aching is to be expected, it should never hurt this much.” He said, stepping back and resting his chin on his hoof.

“Well, why ain’t they?” Yondu hissed, looking rather annoyed.

The Ravager medic gave his captain an equally annoyed look. “If I knew, I would tell you. None of the books on Terran biology say anything about teeth not coming in right.”

“Well that’s just great. What are we supposed to do then?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Let’s wait a few more days. If he doesn’t improve, then we need to take him to a medical center.” Doc replied, helping Peter down from the counter he had been sitting on. “Until then Peter, take one of these every 4 hours. They will help with the pain.”

He handed Peter a small bottle of pills and instructed him to take one at lunch time. Peter nodded miserably and walked over to Yondu so that they could leave. 

“Let me know if you find anyth’n.” Yondu said, opening the Medbay doors.

“Of course.” Doc replied.

Later, long after he should have been asleep, Peter was staring awake at the ceiling, feeling awful. He ran finger over the places where he was missing teeth, hissing softly when he felt them flare with pain. He could feel something behind the soft flesh, but he had no idea how to get it out.

Something buzzed at the back of his mind, a feeling not unlike Déjà vu. He closed his eyes and focused on the new feeling, and soon, he heard something akin to whispers in his head, telling him what to do. He imagined sharp, fang-like teeth growing in place of his baby teeth, and to his shock, he felt something pierce the flesh of his gums and settle into place, tiny rivets of blood trickling down onto his chin.

Peter opened his eyes and quickly felt around in his mouth. Large, sharp fangs had replaced his old, smaller ones. They nearly cut him when he ran his tongue over their points, so he made a mental note to be more careful when he was eating. He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom down the hall. Once he was there he flicked on the light, opened his mouth, and stared at the mirror.

He had seen pictures of carnivorous animals before, and that was the first thing he thought when he saw his mouth. The new teeth were more curved than they had been before, and looked out of place among his smaller, more omnivorous baby teeth. Slowly, he reached a hand up and wiggled his remaining baby teeth. One by one they came loose, and he willed the new ones to grow in. The whole process left him shivering in confusion and fear as blood dripped into the sink. This felt unnatural at best and disturbing at worst.

His mouth now was filled with sharp, curved, bloodstained teeth that looked like they could tear through the toughest hide. He spat out the blood that was still in his mouth and turned on the tap, cupped his hands, gathered some water, and used it to clear away the blood still sticking to his teeth. 

Once he had finished, he gathered up his old teeth and threw them down the garbage shoot. Peter was tired, and he wanted to go back to bed and sleep this off now that his mouth wasn’t hurting. He wiped his mouth and exited the bathroom, making sure to turn off the light. He crawled back into bed and shut his eyes, making sure that he didn’t lie on his face, as he was worried that his teeth would cut him while he slept.

The next morning, Kraglin went to Peter’s room to wake him up.

“Rise an shine, Pete! It’s time fer breakfast.” He called, knocking on the door. 

After a few minutes, Peter came out, dressed but looking tired.

“Yeesh. Didn’t sleep well?” Kraglin asked. “Yer teeth still hurt’n?”

Peter shook his head quietly.

“Really? They come in finally?” Kraglin asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, but…” Peter trailed off, his ears drooping.

“But what kid?”

Peter looked up at Kraglin, looking slightly fearful. “I think something went wrong. They don’t feel right.”

The first mate quirked an eyebrow. “Wrong? Wrong how?”

“You said that they’d just be bigger versions of the ones I had before, but they’re are all sharp now, like a pre-da-tor.” Peter replied, having to sound out the last word.

“What?! Let me see.” Kraglin said, crouching down.

Peter bared his teeth in a mock snarl, but Kraglin reacted like he really thought Peter was going to bite him. He stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender as his ears went back. Peter snapped his jaws shut, any playfulness leaving him immediately when he realized that Kraglin was actually afraid.

“Kraglin, whats happening to me?” He asked, feeling afraid himself now.

“I don’t know kid. I don’t know.” Kraglin said softly, reaching for his com-link. 

“Hey Capt’n? We’ve got a problem.


	17. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets SNATCHED

As Peter grew, his more aggressive traits became more and more pronounced. His ears became more pointed, his nails curved and grew thicker, to the point where Peter no longer cut them, instead choosing to wear them down through repeatedly scraping them against rough surfaces. Although this worried Peter and Kraglin at first, Yondu simply wrote it off as sexual dimorphism. True, the biology book they had didn't mention anything like what Peter had, but perhaps these things were written down in a separate book that they just didn't have. 

So what if Peter had sharp teeth and pupils that could turn into slits? The new additions weren't hurting the kid, save for when he accidentally snagged his new claws on things, so why did it matter what he ended up looking like? If anything, Yondu figured, it just increased Peter's chance of survival.

If only he knew how simultaneously right and wrong he was.

Peter had been 12 when his first mission had gone wrong. 

In his defense, it really hadn't been his fault. Someone was supposed to have checked his blaster to make sure it was working before he had left the Elector. He had been tasked with causing a distraction for Yondu, Watercress and Taserface, and he had done just that. One bright, firework related explosion later, and Peter had found himself ducking into an alleyway to hide...

Peter breathed hard, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Peeking out from behind the wall, he grinned as he watched confused and panicked aliens ran about trying to put out the fire he had caused. His body shook with adrenaline as he breathed out a sigh of relief when none of them tried to look for him.

He tapped his communicator, watching the little green light blink on, letting him know that he was connected to the others. "Alright, you're good to go! I'll see you back on the Elector." He said, looking in the direction of where the ship was parked.

"Good job Pete, don't get distracted." Yondu's voice crackled over the line.

"Yeah, yeah." Peter muttered, turning the channel off. He looked left, then right, before sprinting into the next nearest alley.

He hadn't run very far into the dark passage before he smacked into something solid. A figure, long and scaly, moved in the shadows, a snarling face appearing before him.

"Watch where you're going you little-" The hissing voice cut itself off, and Peter nearly threw up when he realized who stood before him now.

He immediately grabbed his blaster and pointed it at Skyyar, pulling the trigger. The snake flinched, expecting to feel the white-hot burn of blaster fire. However, to his delight and Peter's horror, the gun jammed, leaving the Terran defenseless. Thinking fast, Peter activated the communicator again.

"YONDU, I NEED HEL-" Skyyar smacked him into the wall, his sharp scales scraping against Peter's face. While the boy was stunned, he grabbed Peter's communicator and crushed it in his hand.

The 12 year old whimpered as Skyyar lifted him up by the back of his worn jacket. Briefly, Peter mourned the fact that he would likely never get to receive his own Ravager coat. The serpent flicked his tongue out, tasting the air as a hissing laugh passed his scaly lips.

"You've grown boy, but you're still just a morsel." He chuckled darkly. Peter watched, paralyzed, as Skyyar unhinged his jaw, lowering Peter down into his maw.

Something in the child snapped into place, and Peter shouted in objection, reaching down and grabbing Skyyar's tongue, his sharp claws puncturing the soft, sensitive muscle. The serpent's eyes flew open and he instinctively tried to jerk his head away, which only made things worse. He tossed Peter to the ground and clawed at his face, trying to distract himself from the pain that was rippling through his tongue and jaw.

Peter scrambled to his feet and dashed towards the mouth of the alley, his thin legs nearly sprawling as he tried to escape. He nearly made it, but someone grabbed the back of his jacket and shirt, choking him and sending him flying backwards. A gruff voice snickered as he gasped for air, his throat screaming in protest.

"Damn, this one's a fighter! He'll be worth a few units." The voice commented.

"What?! You plan on letting that little ssshit live?!" Skyyar screeched, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Hey, I'm not the one who lost our last fighter. You should be grateful, at least now Varzon won't skin you alive." The stranger said sternly. He raised a fat, wart covered hand and called out.

"Skekz! Bring the cage!" He hollered.

A smaller creature that reminded Peter of a rodent scrambled over, holding a small cube. He tossed it up into the air, and it expanded, becoming a cage that would just barely fit Peter. The young Ravager squirmed and tried to scream for help, but since his throat had been damaged, he couldn't make more than a squeaky wheeze. The man who held him stuffed him into the cramped cube, his back pressing into the sharp metal bars. Peter whimpered, but couldn’t do anything. There was barely enough room to move his head, so he could do nothing but glare at his assaulters and pray that Yondu would save his sorry hide.

It was a few days later that Peter was allowed out of the cage. He hadn’t eaten, and his captors had hooked him up to some kind of tube so that he didn’t soil himself. All the poor boy could do was press against the hinges of the metal rectangle with his foot and try not to cry. He had been given the bare minimum in terms of water, so he needed to reserve what precious liquid his body had.

When the large man, whom he learned was named Besk, walked into the room where they were keeping Peter, the boy had glared and bared his teeth. The grotesque kidnapper only chuckled in response, rattling the cage slightly.

“Heh, you have a fightin’ spirit. Let’s see if you can garner some attention with it.” He said, opening the cage and pulling Peter out. His body screamed at the sudden, rough movement, and Peter voiced his disapproval, cursing the man out as he kicked at the air.

“Lemme go you fucker!” He shouted, trying to squirm his way to freedom. 

The man punched him in the stomach, causing Peter to cough and become momentarily stunned. He was used to roughhousing and light, reprimanding smacks, but no one had ever hit him so hard and in such a vulnerable place. Taking advantage of the pause that the hit had caused, Peter’s captor fastened a collar around the boy’s neck, the rough material chaffing against his soft skin.

Once the pain had faded slightly, Peter raised a hand to the new accessory that adorned his neck. It was tight, restricting his airflow slightly, and there was a metal loop attached to the back of it. He didn’t try and remove it, as he knew that he didn’t have a chance of escaping right now. As he was carried off a dirty cargo ship, Peter tried to gain as much information as he possibly could just by glancing around. 

The place they were in was dingy and cloaked in shadows, a few rays of blue light streaming down onto a dull, dark gray road. Beings from all corners of the universe slithered and skulked through the dark corners of what appeared to be an illegal marketplace. It seemed like everything could be found here, from stolen ship parts to pulsating organs. Peter felt his stomach flip when he saw some sort of animal suspended in the air by ropes attached to large metal poles by it’s legs, it’s skin and muscles peeled back to reveal it’s innards. Several potential buyers peered at the poor creature’s organs and bones, muttering and pointing at different parts. He paled as he realized that he might become like that, pulled apart and put on display. He didn’t want to die in this place. 

A surge of fear-fueled strength ran through him, and Peter jerked violently, sinking his teeth into his captor’s arm. The combination of pain and sudden movement had caught the man by surprise, and he practically threw Peter away from him. Peter started running as soon as he hit the ground, his boots squeaking as he spun quickly. He heard the man shout, but he didn’t care. He needed to get away, far away, and try to find some way to contact the Elector.

His thoughts dulled his awareness of his surroundings, and so he didn’t see a figure that was also running until he smashed into it. Pain erupted throughout his entire body and he hit the ground hard. The space between his shoulder blades and the spot where his tailbone ended burned the worst, and his left eye ached horribly. The figure grunted in surprise and shifted beneath him. Peter looked up just as the person he had crashed into turned it’s head towards him. The stranger’s face was scaly and bright orange, a short muzzle sporting two long whiskers and a canine nose. Their eyes were big, purple and confused looking, but when they found Peter, they widened in fear and shock.

The alien’s face rippled like water, and suddenly they looked far more Terran, but their nose was more like that of a cats. Sweat matted brown hair framed now forest green eyes, their pupils slits.

“Wha- what? You’re here? Alive? H-how-” The confused voice of the stranger was cut off by a series of angry shouts coming from somewhere in the crowd. The now Terran looking man shot to his feet and pulled Peter up with him.

“Come on! We need to go, now!” He yelled, and a pair of large, pale green and white wings unfurled from behind him, a long, dark brown tail tipped with the same coloured feathers whipping around in panic. 

He flapped his wings, pushing off the ground. Peter yelped as he was pulled upwards, his arm aching at the sudden movement. His body felt like it was on fire and this was certainly not helping.

“Young Prince, hurry! Fly!” The man called, his head snapping towards a group of rough looking creatures.

“I-I can’t fly! What am I supposed to do?!” Peter screamed, not even registering what the man had called him.

The man didn’t get a chance to respond, as one of the aliens threw a knife and managed to hit his hand. He hissed and dropped Peter, the boy yelping as he hit the ground. The man bared his teeth in sympathy and swooped down, managing to knock their attackers away with his tail. 

“Go! Escape, and I’ll get help. I’ll come back for you, I promise!” He said, before soaring upwards and disappearing from sight.

Peter clutched at his arm and tried to continue running, but a sudden weight caused him to trip. He looked back to see why he had fallen and froze, his mind not registering what he was seeing. His shirt was splitting open, the fabric being pushed against by feathery appendages. His pants had been torn also, and now a long, orange tail a few shades lighter than his hair was lying limp on the cold ground, a plume of dark blueish purple feathers that had a gradient stripe of pale lavender running over the middle adorning the end. 

“Wha?” Was all he could manage as he stared at the new additions to his body. When prompted, the tail twitched and responded to the commands his mind gave it.

Unfortunately, this distracted Peter long enough for his captor to catch up to him. The grotesque man paused in his enraged chase upon seeing Peter, raising an eye as he plucked the now noticeably heavier boy up off the ground.

“Well, this is an… unexpected development. But not an unwelcome one.” He chuckled, walking down the dark street. Peter did not try to fight this time. He was far too weak.

“Y’know, I figured there was somethin’ off about ya, and now we know what it is. Yer no Terran, no, yer somethin’ much more valuable.” He continued, poking at Peter’s wings. The action feels invasive and wrong, and Peter growls at the man.

He wants Yondu and Kraglin. Never before has he wanted so badly to go and curl up beside the gruff captain and look at stars or help the Xandarian fix a ship. He longed for their gentle pats and rare hugs, and he missed the sense of safety that he always felt when he was around them. For the first time in years, Peter felt tears beginning to form in his eyes. He blinked them away. He would not let this bastard see him cry. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

After around 20 minutes of walking, the man stops in front of a building. It’s dull and worn, just like all the others, but this one has a light blue symbol on the door. His captor pulled a card out of one of his pockets and pressed it to the symbol. It glowed, and the door slid open. The sound of rattling metal and hoarse screams echoed out from within, and Peter shuddered. He really didn’t want to go in there, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice.

As they moved into the building, dim lights flickered on overhead, lighting the way as they walked down a dark hallway. There was another door waiting for them at the end, and the sounds he had heard before only seemed to get louder as they approached. The door slid open, and what little breath Peter still had caught in his throat and caused him to choke.

Rows upon rows of cages sat in a dark room. They were dirty, covered in grime and blood and other fluids that Peter didn't even want to think about, and they looked like they were rusting right in front of the boy. The room smelled like how pain and metal tasted, and the overpowering stench made him writhe in disgust. The man strode through the room, not paying any attention to the different aliens that snapped and whined at him. He opened a long, thin cage and stuffed Peter inside. The boy yelped as his new wings and tail, which still felt rather sensitive, were scraped against the cold metal of the cage. The cage door slammed shut, and Peter whimpered as he was jostled, his bruised chest aching.

He had never been treated this roughly, and Peter had never quite realized how much his body could hurt. As the man walked away, Peter allowed his body to relax as his eyes became blurry. He was hurt, cold and scared, and he wanted to go home more than anything. The young Ravager let out a shaky, half breath half sob and blinked away tears.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Peter glanced down, his ears flicking forward. A large, azure draconian face peered up at him from another cramped cage. A thin frill the colour of a pastel rainbow flopped over scared eyes with bright pink irises. The creatures horns, which were shaped like lightning bolts and coloured with a gradient of magenta that led to a pale rose pink, were tangled slightly in the bars of the cage and forced the poor alien’s head to face up wards at an uncomfortable angle.

Peter sniffed. “Y- yeah I’ll be okay. It’s just bruises and a black eye.”

“How did they get you? Your wings look fine, why didn’t you fly away?” The creature asked.

“I… didn’t have wings until a few minutes ago. I ran into this weird guy who changed into another weird guy and then poof! Wings and a tail…” Peter trailed off, flicking his tail slightly.

“Really? That’s super weird.” The alien’s snout wrinkled in confusion.

“Well, how about you? You have wings too.” Peter pointed out.

It was true, his fellow captive did indeed have large, leathery wings that matched the colour of his body. 

“You’re right, but one of mine is broken. I got taken when I was walking back from a visit to our medic’s den. I still can’t believe that I didn’t see them…” He shook his head slowly, or at least as much as he could with the way his horns were stuck.

There was silence for a moment, then Peter spoke.

“What’s your name?” He asked, reaching his hand down and untangling the scaly male’s horns.

The creature cracked his neck and sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you! My name is Prince Deebly, but please just call me Deebly. All my friends do.”

“My name’s Peter, but my… parents, well, sometimes they call me Star-Lord.” Peter replied, pulling his hand back.

“Star-Lord. I like it!” Deebly smiled at him.

Peter returned the smile, but the happy expression quickly fell as someone grabbed the cage. He hissed and bared his teeth at the armoured alien that was now holding his cage. 

“Shut up in there!” Another figure growled, jabbing him with a stun prod. Peter yelped at the shock and flattened himself against the bottom of his cage, his feathers puffing up in fear.

He heard Deebly growl as the sound of rattling metal came from behind him. A similar yelp sounded out, and the draconian prince fell silent. The armored figures carried them into a large, dimly lit room with several metal anchors mounted on the floor of some kind of stage, short, sturdy chains attached to the anchors. The figure holding his cage opened the door and grabbed Peter by his collar, strangling the poor child. A clinking noise was heard, and the rough hands that had been gripping his neck disappeared as Peter was dropped onto the floor.

He tried to leap away and try to escape, but he was quickly yanked back, the chain on the floor becoming taunt before relaxing again once Peter stumbled back. He hissed in pain, moving into a kneeling position. Deebly couldn’t even crouch, his own chain keeping his head as low as Peter’s. A few more cages were brought out, and more scared and aggressive aliens were chained. From what species Peter could recognize, there was a Xandarian, a Skrull, and a Pluvian all testing their restraints. There were two others, but Peter didn’t know what they were. Muttering under his breath, Peter laid down and folded his arms, resting his head on them, his tail curling around and covering his face. He was tired, and although he didn’t feel safe here, he needed sleep.

It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes later when another shock hit him, this time on the back of his head. Peter jolted up, the chain choking him slightly. He had just drifted off when he had been forced back awake. He growled and glared at the armoured figure, his wings flaring out indignantly. One tilted it’s head at the outstretched appendages before flicking a stun prod towards them. The guard, that’s what Peter thought they must be, who was closest to him nodded and retreated into the room with all the cages. His sudden disappearance made Peter nervous. 

“Hey, what is he-” 

His sentence was cut off by a sudden shock. He only hissed at that one, as he was becoming used to it. The shocks weren’t that painful, but they did leave a faint burning feeling behind. Soon the guard reappeared and grabbed one of Peter’s wings. Peter jerked away and tried to retract his wing, but the guard’s grip was firm, and Peter didn’t have very good control over his wings yet, so he couldn’t use them as a weapon. He shouted and whipped his tail around as much as he could, but it seemed to do nothing.

The armored figure clamped heavy, ring shaped weights onto both his wings, forcing them to droop onto the floor, his feathers being crushed by the ring. Peter grit his teeth and tried to lift them, but his wings refused to rise. Looking around, he could see that Deebly was receiving a similar treatment, though his broken wing was left alone. The prince, it seemed, had learned from Peter, and did not fight when the guard clipped the weight on that prevented him from opening his wings.

Once that was done, one of the guards pressed a green button on the wall near the door. Bright lights flicked on overhead, blinding the poor chained creatures. Peter raised a hand to cover his eyes, his pupils constricting. The sound of approaching footsteps made his ears flick forward and he looked up. A number of well dressed aliens meandered into the room, oohing and aahing at the unwilling menagerie. Deebly and Peter seemed to be garnering the most attention, and many of the aliens stared at them like they were rare jewels.

It was at that moment that Peter realized what was going on. They were at an auction, and they were the sought after objects being put up for sale. He sucked in a fearful breath and strained against his collar, his claw-like nails tearing at the old material as he tried to ignore the feeling of his air flow being cut off. He felt something give, and with a resounding snap, the collar tore under the strain. The crowed gasped as Peter leapt up, a snarl on his lips and a fire in his eyes. He forced his wings to rise off the ground enough as to not drag on the floor as he moved, and when a guard went for him, he spun and used one of his wings as a club, knocking the stun prod from his hands.

Deebly and the other aliens began to really strain against their restraints, and a few managed to break free, causing chaos as they attacked the armored figures. Peter ran over to Deebly and tried to help him get his collar off. Once they were both free, they could make a break for the door and figure out a plan from there. Perhaps there would be a Nova Corps officer they could go to. Peter didn’t particularly like them most days, but he figured he could make an exception this time.  
However, his plans of escape were cut short when a large hand clamped around his neck and lifted him up into the air. Peter kicked and thrashed, but whoever had him just laughed, a horrible, cold sound that made Peter both afraid and angry.

“Well, you certainly have some fight in you! I guess Udonta must have rubbed off on you.” A male voice hissed, still chuckling.

Peter froze, his eyes going wide. This man knew his captain’s last name, and knew that Peter was part of Yondu’s crew, when that information, as far as he knew, was mostly kept a secret.

“Although, I thought my scouts reported that Yondu and his little mate were raising a Terran whelpling, not a young Mismeyr! Tell me, do they even know what you truly are?” He asked, poking and pulling at Peter’s wings and tail. The man was almost the same shade of blue that Yondu was, but he did not sport a Tahlei, and Peter could see faint ridges of raised skin on his bald head.

Peter remained silent, frozen in fear. He REALLY would like to go home now. Surely they must know he was missing by now, so it would only be a matter of time until he was saved, right?

“Hmm, judging by the look on your face and the fact that you were even caught, I’m going to guess that you didn’t even know what you were. Am I right?”

Peter nodded slowly, far too afraid to lash out now and unable to do much else with how tightly his neck was being gripped. Slowly, the room returned to its calm state as the other captives were caught and re-chained, save for the Xandarian, who seemed to have gotten away. The man hummed again before turning to one of the guards.

“I’ll take these two. The arena has needed some fresh blood for a while, and I think they’ll provide quite a show for my audience.” 

The guard nodded silently and took Peter from him, securing him under his arm and walking out of the room while Deebly was led like a pet on a leash. It looked degrading, and Peter felt sorry for the young prince. They were transported through the building and into a large, expensive looking black ship. They were affixed with new, brighter collars that hummed with electricity before being placed into bigger cages. Peter lay down in his cage, exhaling shakily. His mind was struggling to process what was happening to him, and while he really wanted to curl up and go to sleep, he didn’t want to leave Deebly without someone to talk to. He absently reached for where his Walkman would normally be, only to realize that it, along with everything else he owned, was still on the Elector. He had no comfort item. 

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Peter could no longer hold back tears. As the ship roared to life, he burst into tears when he realized that no one would be coming to save him this time, that he was on his own with no way to really defend himself. A raw sob racked his frame, and he buried his face in his arms, trying to find comfort by hiding in the darkness created by his sleeves and closed eyelids. To top it all off, his stomach growled loudly, bringing to his attention how hungry he was.

“No one’s going to come save us.” He whispered, a fresh wave of tears trickling down his cheeks as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he would have to save himself for once.


End file.
